Driven To Distraction
by AbstractSong101
Summary: You meet all kinds of people when you're a driver for a living. Carlisle thought he had seen it all, but when Edward Masen's eyes met his in the rear-view mirror, a whole new world opened up to him. AH. Carlward slash. M for language and lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**New story time!  
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**The boys in this are very different from FOF Carlisle and Edward, but I hope that you will love them as much as I do. Some chapters are pre-written. so updates will be once a week, for now. I will let you know if that is going to change.**_**  
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**Thank you to my pre-reader KarenEC who kicks my terrible tense use into shape. She also made my beautiful banner, which I have linked on my profile.  
**

**Disclaimer: I dont own Twilight. Sadly.**

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LHR 19:10, Saturday 19__th__ September. Meet at arrivals. Name "Whitlock." Drop off at The Waldorf._

_._

People say that the eyes are the window to the soul. Maybe they are. I guess I should know; I see enough of them. I meet a bunch of assholes in my job, I'm not sure I see many souls, though. Maybe rear view mirrors lessen the impact. Like that monster in Harry Potter.

I glance at 'Whitlock' in the mirror before my eyes return to the road. He was nice enough; he thanked me for taking his bags for him, which is more than I get from most people. I scratch my head with my hat. It's a warm evening and the air con doesn't touch my head under this hat. I can't take it off though, because that is 'unprofessional.'

I hate early evening pickups at this time of year. The sun is setting and it's a pain in the arse to drive. At least on the way to the hotel the sun is behind us. My rear view voyeurism is limited then, though, as the glare from the sun is intense. Most of the journey is into London, but we hit central London as we get close to the hotel. The city is weird mix at this time of shoppers going home, people out to go to the theatre, and people dressed up ready to pre-drink in pubs before nights out.

I have the radio on low. We're meant to ask clients if they would like the radio on or not, but I always have it on. I need some background noise while I work, and people on the radio are friendly. I don't hear that many friendly voices throughout the day. Most people using our service aren't afraid to tell me to turn it off if that's what they want, but Whitlock is quiet, engrossed in something on his phone.

We pull up outside the Waldorf about fifty minutes after we leave the airport, not a bad run. I get Whitlock's bags out of the boot of the car and hand them off to the hotel porter. When I open the door for Whitlock he nods a thank you at me, handing me some cash as a tip, before heading up to the door of the hotel, his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone.

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LGW 21:00, Thursday 24__th__ September. Meet at arrivals. Name "Masen." Drop off at Claridge's Hotel._

_.  
_

I get the confirmation email from the company, and about five minutes later, I get another from Tanya, the owner of the company.

**_To: Carlisle Cullen_**

**_From: Tanya Denali_**

_Carlisle,_

_This is IMPORTANT. _

_Edward Masen is a massive client for us._

_Do everything he asks. Don't fuck it up._

_Tanya._

_.  
_

I get on well with Tanya. She doesn't peddle bullshit, and you always know where you stand with her. She likes me, too; that's why I have been given this guy I guess. I'm a good driver; I don't care enough about the clients to want to try and pry into their business, but I can pretend I care enough to give a good service.

The cars we use are top of the range, but are cars nonetheless; limos are rarely used. I keep a cooler on hand so I can always offer people a cold drink, or something to eat; I make sure there are ports everywhere for people to plug in any electrical equipment; I heft their bags all over the place. I even had Rosalie, my best friend's sister, set the car up so the climate can now be controlled from the back. It was the worst idea of my life during summer when people refused to turn the air con on. 23 degrees Celsius is hot here, and I need air con. Turns out, a surprising number of people don't.

Our clients are usually out quickly, but Masen is taking his time, affording me the time to people watch. I quite like waiting at arrivals for people. Although most people I am there to meet are engrossed in themselves, watching other people meet their families and friends always brings a smile to my face. It is a point of utter joy, especially when you have waited with them, watching people get more and more excited, hearing the buzz of happy chatter around you building, until finally all that pent up energy is released, usually in a crushing hug.

The flight I am waiting for is from Las Vegas, and I pass the time trying to guess how much money people won and lost while they were there. I am at the front of the crowd of people, holding my "Masen" sign, and standing by a couple of girls, maybe in their early twenties, who won't stop talking. They are waiting for their friends to come home. Their friends had got married while out there, and the girls are torn between being pleased for them and being annoyed that they weren't in on the plan.

I'm looking forward to seeing their reunion, just to see which emotion they finally decide on, when they gasp.

"Fuck, that guy is gorgeous."

There is a bit of a crowd coming out, and I can't see who they are talking about yet. I crane my head a little to the side, trying not to be too obvious, but I want to see this with my own eyes.

The crowd of people moves off towards the opposite exit and I see what the girls mean. This man is hot. I let my eyes drift over him as he moves towards me, and I realise that he has either seen me check him out, and is about to punch me, or this is Masen. I'm not sure which is worse.

He nods at me, and manoeuvres round to the exit and I walk to meet him. He's on his phone, and I hold out my hand to take his trolley, which is dangerously swerving as he tries to steer one handed. Remembering Tanya's instructions, I point towards Costa, wondering if he wants a hot drink for the journey; it is a chilly night tonight. He frowns, and lifts his arm to show me his watch, shaking his head, before dropping his hand to stab his finger towards the entrance.

I manage to resist rolling my eyes at him, and set off at a brisk pace towards the exit. I wasn't the one who was essentially the last off the plane.

I get his bags into the car and let him get settled while I run the trolley back. As I climb back in, he is yelling at someone.

"How am I meant to sort anything without McCarty? It took me an hour longer than usual to get through the airport."

His flight only landed forty-five minutes ago, so I'm not sure quite how that happened. Drama queen. I pull out of the airport as he continues to rant at whoever is on the other end of the phone.

"He needs to be here; how the fuck did you manage to book him onto the wrong flight? More to the point, why have I ended up on the fucking Gatwick flight anyway? I'm miles away from where I need to be, while Emmett is probably stuffing himself with the hotel's food and bordering on getting us thrown out of the hotel for flirting with the staff. Before I even get there. Not good enough. You've done a shit job and you need to start packing your desk up. I want you gone when I get back."

He puts the phone down and runs his hand through his hair.

"It's fucking freezing in here."

It's not. I point out the climate control to him and he sets it to what I can only imagine to be the temperature on the surface of the sun.

He picks up his phone and starts talking to someone I can only imagine to be the Emmett character. I've never listened in to anyone's conversations before; I don't think I have ever cared. But this guy, this insanely hot and incredibly rude guy, just makes me want to know everything about him.

As Masen rants at his phone about staff being shit, and always being fucked over – a point I doubt, judging by the lifestyle he can clearly afford – I try to sort out my emotions.

I know I'm gay, and I am more than ok with that. I go out every now and then, and find someone to bring back to my flat, but it's never more than one night, no matter how attractive he is. I never, ever, obsess over anyone, and I can't figure out why I seem to give so much of a shit about Masen.

Driving at night, the headlights of other cars, along with the streetlights, becomes somehow hypnotic. But not on this drive. My senses are on hyper alert. Masen is off the phone now, but typing away furiously. I ignore the true purpose of the rear view mirror and glance at him. The glow from the screen lights up his face, albeit making him look slightly blue, and I watch him as much as I am able. He has a dusting of stubble on his face, and his hair is all over the place. He has pulled at his tie a little, his top button is undone, and his jacket has gone, in deference to the ridiculous temperatures he wants to keep the car at. He looked amazing in a full suit, and he looks even better slightly dishevelled. I can't see his eyes, which are focussed on whatever he is doing, but I know from the airport that they are a beautiful shade of green.

I shake my head and force myself to focus solely on the road; the heat is obviously getting to me. Normally all I concentrate on is how a guy feels while he is pressed up against me, how his kisses feel against my skin. Shaved or stubble only matters when I can feel it scraping against my skin. A person's clothes don't interest me, unless I am figuring out how to get them off. I don't care about a person's eyes, unless they are watching mine as we drive each other closer to release.

"Drinks?"

I look at Masen in the mirror, and he continues before I can speak. "I need a drink. My mouth is dry. I guess it would be too much to ask for you to provide them."

I take a deep breath, Tanya's words flying round my brain as I will myself not to snap at him.

"If you lift the seat next to you, there's a cooler in there."

"Well fuck, it's a good job I chose this seat. It's hardly helpful if I'm sitting on the thing I need."

I just look at the road, trying not to let the chants of "prick" that are running round my brain, out.

I don't bother to tell him there are coolers under his seat and the passenger seat too. If all those seats are taken, well... there are enough people for someone to manage to bring their own drinks in that case.

Even at this time of night, we hit traffic. This is London after all. I spend another hour listening to Masen bitch at every single person he speaks to, watching him surreptitiously in the rear view mirror, and wondering why hearing him be such an insufferable dickhead does nothing to soften my erection.

Eventually we get to Claridge's hotel. They have their own car service for people who land at Heathrow, and aren't so used to having to deal with outside drivers. Masen is still on the phone, and storms into the hotel without a second glance at me as I am passing his bags off to the porter.

The fucker didn't even tip me.

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at Claridge's Hotel 20:00, Monday 28__th__ September. Meet in the hotel lobby. Name "Masen." Drop off at LGW._

_.  
_

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Tanya Denali**_

_Clearly you did something right. Keep it up._

_Tanya._

_.  
_

He sits on the opposite side of the back seat this time, with a smug grin. I'm pissed off, because I can't see him so well in the mirror.

"Drink?" He smirks, thinking he's got me beaten.

"If you lift up the seat next to you, there's a cooler in there." We're stopped at traffic lights, and so I turn round, giving him my sweetest smile. Possibly mixed with a hint of a victory smile.

He recovers well from my comment, merely nodding and grabbing himself a bottle of water. The radio is off today, so I can listen to whatever he is saying, and he doesn't disappoint. Whatever business he was here to complete seemed to go well; there is less bitching involved in his conversations.

About fifty minutes into the journey, he tosses his phone onto the seat next to him and lets out a huge sigh, resting his head back against the seat. "Can you put the radio on, please?"

If I wasn't seatbelted in, I might have fallen off my seat in surprise at hearing the word 'please' escape his lips.

I flick the radio on, and Classic FM comes on. I had listened to it on the journey to the hotel, hoping to relax before the journey with him. I move to change the station, trying to find something that played a better mix of music.

"Leave it."

No 'please'. His manners are clearly short lived.

He spends the rest of the journey with his eyes shut. I'm not quite sure if he is asleep, but I take the opportunity to move the rear view mirror so I can see him a little clearer. He is beautiful, his face is relaxed, it's the first time I have seen him like this, and I wish I could take a picture.

Considering the density of traffic, it feels like we reach Gatwick in record time. He opens his eyes as I pull to a stop, and is out of the car by the time I have got him a trolley for his bags. I wish him a pleasant flight and he thanks me, striding off to departures. I lean against the car and enjoy the view.

And then realise he has left me no tip, again. Prick.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts! The response has been amazing.  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. She has also set up a CarlWard C2, the link is under my communities tab on my profile.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Oh, except a fandom FB account, finally. Link on my profile. Feel free to add me on there :)**_**  
**_

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LTN 18:00, Friday 23__rd__ October. Hen Party. Meet at arrivals. Name "Swan." Drop off at Cricklewood Travelodge._

_._

Fucking hen parties.

I've got the headache from hell, having spent most of the day with my nephews, who had the day off school. My sister couldn't get the day off work so I was stuck with them. I love those kids to death but they drive me absolutely insane. I spent most of the day being talked at about things I don't care about. Why they think I give a shit about Mario, and what levels they have unlocked on Angry Birds, I don't even know. In the end, after dragging them to the playground and woods for an hour or two, I stuck them in front of Harry Potter when we got home to shut them up for five minutes.

Of course, when my sister got home, they insisted that we had done "nothing" all day. Bastards.

On top of a stress-filled day, London Luton airport is a pain in the arse to get to. So I am in no mood to deal with anyone by the time I get there. I put on a smile, though, and greet the party at arrivals, spotting them a mile off. They're in matching t-shirts, "Bella's Hens" with their name and a nickname – that I think is meant to be sexy, but I can only describe as hideous - written on them, and all in pink. And all eight of them are drunk as hell.

They had requested the limo, of course, so I'm completely out of my comfort zone driving that thing around. The only thing I can thank them for is insisting I take off my jacket and hat, claiming it makes me look "stuffy." However, I am now driving a limo wearing a pink, fluff lined cowboy hat. I can still work it, though. People driving past beep their horns at me, and I grin and tip my hat back to them. You never know, I might bump into one of them in a club, and they might choose to come home with me because of the way I can rock a pink cowboy hat.

The radio is blaring, playing music to get the girls in the mood for a night out. I enjoy this kind of music, usually, but they're singing along – if it can possibly be described as singing, when wailing may be more appropriate – and generally adding to my headache and ruining the experience for me. I can only hope that the next time I hear these songs when I am out, it doesn't put me off my game. The last thing I need when I'm getting ready to reel someone in is the memory of this moment.

We finally get to the hotel – before my ears start bleeding, thankfully – and I open the door to let them stumble out while I sort out their bags. There are no porters at Travelodges, so I take the bags as close to the entrance as I can, hoping that all eight of the girls will at least be inside and on carpet, not concrete, before they start tumbling - the bags will put them even more off balance than the drink and ridiculous heels.

As we were drawing closer to the hotel, I had heard the girls trying to sort out a tip for me. They were trying to whisper, but I'm pretty sure their drunken whisper volume was louder than their normal speaking volume.

One of the girls, Angela, apparently otherwise known as "Sexy Madam" - give me fucking strength - kissed my cheek and pressed some money into my hand. Unfortunately, it had obviously been a whip-round for the tip. So it was all in loose coins. I'm not sure how big she thought my hands were, given that she was carrying the money in two hands, and was trying to transfer it to only one of mine. Whatever she thought would work, didn't, and coins spilled out onto the ground. The other girls found this unspeakably hilarious – as only drunk people can – and were leaning on each other to stop themselves falling over from laughing so hard.

Angela bent down to help me pick them up, blushing furiously and apologising. I still didn't have my jacket on, and was trying to store some of the coins in my trouser pockets, but they rolled right back out again thanks to the way I was crouched. I ended up laughing along with everyone else at the situation, and the harder I laughed, the more coins fell out. I ended up throwing the coins onto the passenger seat of the limo to sort out later.

Eventually we had all the coins collected and all the girls were inside the building, once I had persuaded them that no, I couldn't join them on their night out. I did have a photo taken with them, the receptionist of the hotel utterly bewildered at what was going on as all the girls threw their cameras towards her.

Back in the car, I start to pick up all the change from the passenger seat of the car, trying to sort it all out. There are four different types of currency in there – two of them aren't even used any more. Even without the intruders, though, it's still a generous tip.

The back of the limo is a mess I'm sure, and I'm glad that I can raise the divider and not even be tempted to look at it. The limo isn't mine, so the mess isn't my problem. Thank God.

I switch the radio back to Classic FM, needing to chill out a little on the drive back, still laughing about the craziness that just occurred. Maybe hen parties aren't so bad after all.

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LHR 12:00, Sunday 1__st__ November. Meet at arrivals. Name "Masen." Two passengers. Drop off at 45 Park Lane._

_._

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Tanya Denali**_

_Carlisle,_

_Edward Masen requested you, and that car, specifically. Leave the pink cowboy hat at home._

_Tanya._

_._

Tanya had laughed herself stupid when I dropped the limo off. I completely forgot that I was still wearing the ridiculous pink hat. I wasn't planning to wear it to the Masen pick up, but maybe it might help him crack a smile. I decided against it, though; Tanya would kill me.

Masen and Emmett are in the back of the car, talking business. They had made it through arrivals a lot faster this time; obviously Masen needed a helping hand to recognise his own bags.

He's sitting behind me in the car again, meaning my sight of him is restored, a fact that I'm happy about. It's a shorter journey this time, as he had managed to arrive at the right airport – presumably, someone new made the plans for him this time.

Emmett is friendly, asking me my name and chatting to me while Masen is back on the phone. He's desperate to see some sport while he is out here, claiming that Edward usually works him so hard he never gets a chance.

"He's a workaholic, and so everyone around him has to be one, too. And there's no slacking, everything has to be up to his standards."

I laugh, before I remember I probably shouldn't find that as amusing as I do. My eyes flick to the mirror to check on Masen, who is talking away on his phone, but his eyes are on me. I swiftly look back at the road before replying to Emmett. "Well, I guess if that's what it takes to get him to where he needs to be. And I'm sure there are loads of good things about working with him."

Emmett snorts, "Yeah, I kick his ass when I finally persuade him to play a game on the Wii with me. That's a good moment."

Our conversation is interrupted by Masen.

"What the fuck do you mean it's not ready? That's the whole fucking reason we're here. How incompetent do you have to be? This is insane. It's one p.m., right? Our meeting is at ten a.m. tomorrow. I want it sorted out by then, or you can spend the time we would have spent in the meeting, looking for a new job."

He doesn't wait for a response before he hangs up, his hand rubbing his forehead. He and Emmett chat for a minute and I tune out; business talk is not my thing. I can hear that Masen is seriously pissed off, though.

Finally, there is a lull in his ranting. My eyes flick to the mirror. I see Masen lick his lips, and try not to groan. His demand interrupts my train of thought, I should probably be grateful.

"Drink?"

I roll my eyes, I knew it was coming. We pull up to traffic lights and I ask if he wants a bottle of water, his usual. He agrees, still disbelieving, and Emmett asks for one too.

Reaching over while the car is stopped, I flip up the seat on the passenger side and pass them both a bottle of water from the cooler there. Emmett gulps his down straight away, as Masen is left looking at me in the mirror. I see the lights change and prepare to move, nodding at him, "Enjoy your drink."

I give him a smile and then pull my eyes away from his, trying to keep my concentration on the road in front of me, and not the gorgeous man behind me. His conversation with Emmett eventually resumes, and they talk about how they are going to handle the guy he is so angry with. Masen is so casual about people's jobs and it makes my blood boil. I'm sure most of the people he talks about have a fairly stable base to begin with, but I bet some don't. The poor girl who booked him on the wrong flight the last time he was over, for example. I don't think he has a complete grip on the reality of the world.

I don't understand how I am still so attracted to this guy, who is clearly such a dickhead. I am though; my eyes run an almost constant loop of checking the traffic behind me, checking him, and then falling back to the road ahead.

He has caught on to my voyeurism, I think. His eyes are nearly always on mine when I look up. I can't help myself though, even knowing he is onto me doesn't stop me; he is angled toward Emmett, giving me a prefect view of his lips around the mouth of the water bottle, which sends my mind racing.

The journey is taking forever; even when we are lucky enough to be moving, the traffic crawls. Masen has finally run out of people to complain about, or maybe he is compiling a new shit-list in his head. Either way, I am glad of the peace. His personality bothers me. Or maybe my complete disregard of his personality bothers me. One of the two.

He can't live too long without hearing the sound of his own voice, though. "Put the radio on, please. The station you had on last time."

I fiddle around with the radio until I find the right station. I'm not sure if he purposely didn't tell me exactly which one as a test or something – it has been over a month since I last saw him. Although I'm not sure what the point of the test would be. He's lucky, any other client and I wouldn't have remembered what station they meant. I'm not sure if that makes me attentive – like Tanya wants me to be – or just a bit creepy. I hope that Masen decides on attentive, although I could probably argue my case with Tanya on that one. Maybe not so much the staring at him.

"What the hell, man? England has proper music too, we don't have to listen to this stuffy crap, you know?" Emmett is obviously dismayed by the music choice. He seems completely unafraid of Masen, and I like that. He is clearly in a junior role, so is at risk of Masen being a dick and firing him, and yet still gives him crap for stuff. I bet that's why Masen keeps him around; he knows he needs someone like that in his life. Maybe his heart isn't completely made of stone after all.

"You need some culture in your life Emmett, deal with it. And you're outvoted anyway, Cullen likes this kind of music too, don't you?"

I nearly steer us into the kerb. I didn't even know Masen knew my name, let alone knew I had a voice for things other than replying to direct orders.

I recover and glance into the mirror, seeing Masen with his eyebrows raised at me.

"Yeah, I guess I do like it. It's soothing. Helps you turn your brain off a bit."

As soon as the sentence is out of my mouth, I know what's coming next.

"Well, maybe we should turn it off then. Your brain is essential to driving. Although I guess right now we're stationary. That doesn't use much brain power." The tone of voice he uses makes it sound like he is blaming me for the traffic jam, and I bristle slightly, trying to bite back any of the remarks that bubble up.

Emmett jumps in for me, though. "If you like this music so much, Edward, maybe you should just shut up and listen to it. You know how bad you are at making conversation with regular human beings."

Masen lays his head against the head rest, mumbling a "Fuck off, Emmett," before shutting his eyes.

We spend the rest of the journey in relative silence, the radio providing some noise for us that isn't horns blaring and engines revving.

As we pull onto Park Lane, Masen calls the hotel to let them know he is almost there; demanding that they double-check his suite is exactly as he specified. "The last hotel I stayed in decided not to bother, and now they've lost my business for good."

I can see why Tanya insists on emailing me every time we get another booking from him now; clearly it's not a given.

Park Lane isn't a long road, but with the traffic, it takes us another ten minutes to get to the hotel. I'm almost glad; at least it gives the hotel a chance to makes sure they are Masen-proof.

As soon as the car is stopped, he is out and through the doors. Emmett stays back, grabbing a couple of bags out of the boot to hand off. He gives me a tip, and apologises for Masen's behaviour.

I grin, and shrug. "He's not the worst person I have driven round."

Emmett laughs, "Well, I'd hate to meet the other guys. Thanks, Carlisle."

He sprints into the hotel after Masen, probably hoping to stop him from murdering anyone who looks at him the wrong way. I wave to the doorman; I see him a lot and we have a weird relationship which involves us never having actually spoken. But we wave every time we see each other.

Driving home, I don't bother to change the music station. My car smells like Masen, too. He is everywhere and I can't get thoughts of him out of my head.

I'm straight in the shower when I get back to my flat. I change quickly and head out to meet my friends. I am late thanks to the ridiculous traffic, but I catch up with their drinking fast enough.

It's Sunday night and there are slim pickings in town, but I'm on a mission, I need to fuck Masen out of my system.

I eventually find someone to bring back to mine, a Greek guy over here on holiday called Demetri, who caught my eye in the third bar we visited. He is hot as hell, tanned with jet-black hair and piercing eyes. We fuck, and it's great, but I definitely don't manage to get Masen out of my thoughts.

Shit.

* * *

**AN#2: Britishisms!**

**Hen parties are batchelorette parties.**

**A whip-round is a quick collection of money. Usually used for tips. Or in offices for people's birthdays. Things like that.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Tanya Denali**_

_Carlisle,_

_Can you come in for a meeting on Monday (15__th__ February) at 10:00 am? I need to see your pretty face. And you need to tell me what the hell you have been doing to Edward Masen._

_Tanya_

_._

I'm freaking out. I've driven Masen eight times now; each time was much the same as the others. He was a dickhead to anyone he spoke to on the phone, he always asked for a bottle of water, and for classical music on the radio. He's never said a word when he catches me looking at him.

I feel like a naughty schoolboy outside the head teacher's office. I'm staring at my newly polished shoes and wiggling my toes round in them, as if the slight movement will help the blood flow to my head, and stop me from collapsing with nerves.

It's completely beyond me why I'm nervous. I've been called in to meet Tanya before, numerous times in fact. Once was over an altercation with someone at a hotel that I was sure I would be fired for; and I wasn't as nervous then as I am now. One mention of Masen's name and I'm trembling like a fucking leaf.

Tanya keeps me waiting. I bet she's fucking surfing the internet, catching up on celebrity gossip or something, while I slowly but surely die of terror.

Every minute I wait seems to treble my nerves. Her assistant is tapping away on the computer; her nails make the most horrendous sound on the keyboard, and I'm just about ready to explode when Tanya's office door opens, and she calls me through.

I need to get a fucking grip.

"Have a seat, Carlisle. Do you want a drink?" She doesn't bother to offer an apology for keeping me waiting, not that I really expected one.

I figure asking for anything alcoholic is bad form, so I just shake my head, deciding that anything I drink is at a serious risk of coming straight back up again.

Tanya just nods, turning to make herself a coffee.

I try not to sigh out loud, but I'm almost beyond nerves and into impatience now. I look around her office, trying not to be nosy, but needing to focus on something other than whatever the hell this conversation is going to turn into.

It turns out to not be the greatest idea I've ever had. I'm a little anal retentive about things being neat and tidy –a side effect of practically living my life in a 17x6 ft box. Looking round makes me feel a bit queasy. There are maps everywhere, the desk is covered in post-it notes and invoices, the phone is buried somewhere on the desk, I can't even see the computer keyboard, and I have no fucking idea how she can organise a profitable company from this pigsty.

Tanya shuffles a few papers around to find a place to put her mug down, before sitting down and finally talking to me.

"So, how are things?"

She's got to be kidding me. I'm really not in the mood for chit-chat. This shit could have been done via email. I take a deep breath, trying not to let my aggravation show. "It's good, Tanya, thanks. I'm still enjoying it. Fed up of London traffic, but I love driving so what can you do?"

Everyone knows London traffic is completely horrendous, and Tanya nods in sympathy; the congestion charge has done nothing to lighten the traffic, only our wallets.

"Well, I guess we cause some of the congestion ourselves, so we can't complain too much. And the traffic is what makes people unwilling to drive it themselves, so maybe we should be grateful."

I don't even know how I'm supposed to react to this, so I just sit there. To be honest, I'm not even sure what she said makes sense. I can't figure out why I'm here, and why she hasn't brought up Masen yet. She's not one to beat around the bush normally. I'm pondering trying to have a sniff of her drink, to check there's no alcohol in there, when she talks again.

"How are the clients?"

Now we're getting somewhere. I take a few seconds to consider my answer. "They're fine. Some of them are a bit... well... they know what they want, let's put it that way, but I can handle that. Most of them are okay. I just let them get on with it; if they want to talk to me I'll make conversation but I'm happy to keep quiet."

I'm trying to keep my answers neutral. She mentioned Masen in the email and it's clear that's where we're building up to. I don't want to say anything she will throw back in my face.

I can't think of anything he can have complained about; I am attentive to him but give him the privacy and silence he wants. I always meet him on time, I sort out his bags for him, push his luggage trolleys around, offer him a drink before we leave the airport. The only thing I can think he could complain about is that I like looking at him. A lot. He usually doesn't catch me, and I didn't think I was making him uncomfortable when he did. I always got the impression he would tell me if I was. But maybe he was storing it up to tell Tanya, he clearly has no qualms firing people, and maybe that's what he wants her to do.

"The feedback I've had about you has been positive." She turns to her computer, picking up a pile of papers that are resting on the mouse. Her eyes scan the desk and I can't help the smile that forms – she has nowhere to put anything else down. Eventually she gives up, putting the mouse down on top of the pile, using it as a mouse mat. She notices the look on my face and grins, "Resourcefulness, Carlisle. I'm saving the world by using things for more than just their intended purpose."

I'm pretty sure the amount of paper she has on her desk can't be classed as anywhere near world-saving, despite the multi-purpose use, but I'm not about to argue with her.

She starts fiddling around on the computer and I try to stop my leg from bouncing with nerves. I wish I'd accepted the offer of a drink now, just so I had something for my hands to do other than fidget.

"So then, Edward Masen."

I look up at Tanya, unsure of how she expects me to respond to just his name – whatever she expects, I bet it isn't the way I am. My heart is pounding, and I don't know if it's nerves or the sound of his name that's doing it. Either way, I wish it would fucking stop.

"What's it like driving him around?" Her face is impassive, and her questions are so neutral, I still have no idea what she is looking for from me.

"It's okay. He doesn't ask for much, he spends most of the journeys on his phone." I pause, realising that's pretty much all I know about him. "Oh, and he likes Classic FM." It's all true, and I'm not going to give her more information than I can help until I know what this is about.

"Well, he likes you. Which is no mean feat considering most reports make him out to be... difficult."

I smirk at the description. Difficult isn't the half of it, judging by what I've heard from him.

"I hope you're up for a road trip. He's requested you for an entire week."

A whole fucking week? With Masen? Jesus, I'll have to dig out my ear plugs. And find some new hiding places for water bottles. And maybe a gag for him.

My lack of verbal response doesn't deter Tanya and she bombards me with information. "Look, Carlisle, I know you're not down to do anything like this, but this is huge for the company. Huge. And Masen won't accept any driver but you. In fact, he threatened to spread his business around all our rivals if you said no."

No fucking pressure there, then.

"It's a big ask, I know that. But you'd be paid well for it. And Masen is paying for you to stay in the hotels with him..."

I choke on air. I didn't even know that was possible.

Tanya rounds the desk immediately and thumps me on the back. I'm not sure what good she thinks it'll do, there was clearly nothing for me to choke on, and I can expel air out of my lungs just fine. Maybe she just likes the idea of punching me repeatedly.

Finally I calm down, blinking tears out of my eyes.

"Posh hotels not your usual, Carlisle?"

I shrug, not wanting her to have any idea what I was really bothered about. "It's just... that's a lot of money he's shelling out."

She raises her eyebrow at me. "The man is worth millions, he can afford it. And if he wants you with him, he needs to pay for your accommodation, he knows that."

"Yeah, I guess so. I just thought he would put me up in a crappy hotel nearby or something." Visions of Masen being hand-fed grapes by beautiful women while I sit in a generic hotel room stirring a Cup-A-Soup and watching the evening soaps on my five channel TV flash through my brain.

"He must want you close. Maybe he gets cravings for McDonald's at two a.m." Tanya grins as I cringe at the thought of greasy hands in my car. Even if they are Masen's greasy hands.

"Pretty sure he's not into anything that costs less than an extortionate amount. If you can buy it through a window it's probably not on Masen's menu." It's true. I bet he wouldn't be seen dead in a fast food restaurant.

"Your opinion of him is so high, Carlisle." She's getting sarcastic, not a good sign. I'm not about to back down, though.

"Just saying what I see."

Tanya shakes her head, clearly frustrated with the direction the conversation has taken. "So, will you do it?"

"Can I think about it?" I need to get out of this office, this horrible jumbled office, which is doing nothing to help me keep a clear train of thought.

She sighs, not even bothering to hide how pissed off she is with me now. I know it's a big deal, for both me and the company, but thinking about Masen completely screws me up. I seriously need to consider this carefully. "I go home at 5:00 tonight. I want an answer before then. I'll forward the details on to you now."

I nod, standing up and getting ready to bolt. Tanya grabs my arm. "Don't dismiss this, Carlisle. I know going away for work isn't your thing, being on call twenty-four/seven, but this is different."

"I'll think about it, I promise." And I'm out of the door.

I drop my car off at my apartment and head out for a walk. It's a freezing cold day, and I'm hoping that the biting wind will blow away some of the confusion in my mind.

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Tanya Denali**_

_Carlisle,_

_I've forwarded Edward Masen's email. Please, think about it properly. He wrote this email. Not his assistant. He wants you._

_Tanya_

I try to ignore the shiver that Tanya's closing sentence sends down my spine. Chancing a glance at the clock, I cue up Masen's email on my phone. I don't really want details, not sure if they would help or hinder my decision making. I need to look, though; I only have an hour left before Tanya wants a response, and I need to know what I'm letting myself in for. My decision is pretty much made anyway. I suck in a deep breath and focus my attention on Masen's email. He is as abrupt in his written word as he is in his spoken.

_**-Forwarded message-**_

_**To: Tanya Denali**_

_**From: Edward Masen**_

_Tanya,_

_I am in the UK for business next month and need to book Cullen and his car for a week. The itinerary is as follows:_

_Edinburgh, March 14__th__ for two nights_

_Newcastle, March 16__th__ for one night_

_Manchester, March 17__th__ for two nights_

_Birmingham, March 19__th__ for one night_

_Arrive back in London, March 20__th__._

_He will be needed to drive me to Heathrow Airport on March 21__st__._

_I will be flying direct from Heathrow to Edinburgh. He can drive up and meet me at Edinburgh Airport with the car. _

_All his expenses will, of course, be paid. He will stay in the same hotels I do._

_It's Cullen or no one. I will take my business elsewhere if I have to._

_Provide confirmation of this booking as soon as possible._

_Edward Masen._

_._

Fucking hell.

That's about nine hundred miles in six days. I'm used to my thirty mile airport runs. Nine hundred miles stuck in a car with Masen. I throw my phone down on the sofa next to me, and blow out a breath.

I make myself a coffee while I think about the pros and cons of this trip. I feel like I need more information; I need to know exactly why he needs me in the same hotel as him, and what he expects from me at god knows what time in the morning. I know Tanya's about to blow a gasket at me as it is, though. I look at the clock, half-past four, and know I have to make a decision.

There's no decision to be made, if I'm totally honest.

_**To: Tanya Denali**_

_**From: Carlisle Cullen**_

_Tanya,_

_I will take the Masen job. _

_Carlisle._

_._

I press 'send' and immediately regret my decision. Except, I kinda don't, not really.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts.  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. If I did, all of these pictures being released would be CarlWard based.**_**  
**_

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at EDI 14:00, Sunday 14__th__ March. Meet at arrivals. Name "Masen." Week long assignment, driving to Newcastle, Manchester, Birmingham and London. Drop off at 45 Park Lane, London, 20__th__ March._

_._

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Tanya Denali**_

_Carlisle,_

_Good luck._

_Tanya_

_._

The drive to Edinburgh seems interminable.

It's a seven hour drive at the best of times. I left at five in the morning to give me a couple of hours leeway.

Edinburgh is drab and dreary as I drive through to the airport. I am an hour early, but the idea of being able to grab a coffee to go and stretching my legs while I wait for Masen is ridiculously appealing, so I don't mind paying the extra for parking.

I find myself looking for a seat sooner than I thought I would. Although I have spent the best part of the last eight hours behind the wheel, having the freedom to move my right leg is enough to make sitting down again enjoyable.

Grabbing my phone out my pocket, I check it for emails. Masen has had my email address for a week or so now, with my consent, and intermittently emails me to check that I've remembered to check the tire pressures and put petrol in the car, various things like that. Things that I would clearly have never thought about, having chosen driving as a living. Although he has been bugging the shit out of me, it's been good to get an idea of what he wants from me during this week. I only own four suits which I can normally rotate through for work. I needed to know if I had to buy more, what kind of journeys I would be taking him on, and when – and if I'm expected to hang around while he's doing whatever he does, or I if can do my own thing. Most importantly, I needed to know what snacks he liked on long journeys, because God knows I hate stopping at service stations if I can help it.

At the moment, however, he is a few thousand feet up in the air, and he has still managed to email me. I didn't even know that was possible.

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Edward Masen**_

_Cullen,_

_The coffee on this flight is hideous. Pick me up an espresso, if you are at the airport in time._

_Masen._

_P.S. Have you checked your oil levels?_

_._

Shutting my eyes, I drag in a deep breath. If I wasn't so sure he had absolutely no sense of humour, I'd be convinced he was trying to wind me up.

I finish my coffee and decide to properly stretch my legs before he arrives. His flight is due to land in the next ten minutes, so I wander up and down the arrivals hall to pass the time. Spotting a W.H. Smith, I buy a few chocolate bars to hide in the glove compartment, away from the food I got for him to snack on; I've got a feeling I'm going to need a secret stash.

By the time I grab his fucking coffee – I hope it's cold before he arrives-, it's time for me to go and wait for him. I don't have a sign with me, he knows me well enough by now, although I do briefly wonder if I should turn round or something. He's probably seen the back of my head more than any other part of me.

I try to stop that particular train of thought before it starts.

My heart is thumping as I wait for him. It's the middle of March in Scotland, for fuck's sake. I must be the only person in the vicinity remotely warm enough, so warm in fact that I'm sweating my arse off. Fucking nerves. This week could turn out to be utter hell. I need to keep a lid on my emotions – both positive and negative - which I can easily manage when I only have to spend a couple of hours with people. Seven days of trying not to give anything away to this guy, however - who I'm pretty sure could pay to have me killed if he was so inclined - is going to be rough.

I know he's travelling alone this time, I'm not sure why that is, but it means I'm not at all surprised when it takes him forever to make it to me. I can't imagine what he finds so difficult about getting through immigration and picking his bags up. Maybe he doesn't like people touching him so he has to wait until everyone else is away from the baggage carousel. I shudder a little; all the pushing and shoving makes me feel a bit gross, too. I can't blame him for that one.

When Masen finally emerges, his hair is all over the place, and he is fighting with a luggage trolley which clearly wants to steer him in a direction he doesn't want to go. He wobbles his way down the barriers, and I grab the trolley from him immediately, handing him his coffee. He might be an asshole but travelling first class doesn't stop jet lag or stress, and I don't want to start this week off on a bad foot.

He gulps down the coffee, grumbling that it is a little cold.

I ignore him and walk him out to the car.

The wind is biting, and he is wearing only in a suit jacket. He wraps his arms around himself and I'm glad I have to keep the trolley under control with both hands, or I would be itching to try and help warm him up.

Once he is in the car, I start the engine and get the heat running for him while I put his bags in, sort the trolley out and pay for the parking.

By the time I'm sorted and ready to drive, Masen is fast asleep in the back.

It's only a short drive to the hotel and I have the GPS on – the voice grates on me, so I don't normally bother. I don't know these cities at all, however, so I have to deal with it. The volume is on low, both for my sanity and so Masen can get some sleep.

Half an hour later, we are on the winding drive of the hotel, and I'm wondering how on earth I'm meant to wake Masen up. My nephews' method of choice to startle people awake is a tickle attack; I don't think Masen would be quite as gracious as I am on the receiving end of that, though. I decide to sort the bags out first, and then try and rouse him - gently. The back windows are tinted, so it's not like anyone will see him asleep.

I don't need to worry, though; he wakes as I shut the car door, and is checking in by the time I've handed the bags to the porter and the car keys to the valet. It's bizarre, letting someone else drive my car when driving is my job.

Masen hands me my room key when I walk in and says, "I'll meet you at seven p.m. in the restaurant. I don't need you for anything, I've got some work I have to do, your time is your own until then."

And with that, he's off.

My key doesn't have any information on it, so I head back to reception to find out where exactly I'm staying. The receptionist is friendly, letting me know what's available at the hotel. It takes a long time. They seem to have everything you could ever want, and a whole bunch of things you probably never would. There are a couple of things I might take advantage of tomorrow, if Masen is working all day again. I might as well make the most of being here; I'm so used to staying in crappy hotels, this is a whole different world.

My room is... different. I looked up this hotel before driving here, and it was described as "baroque on steroids." I see what they mean now. The rooms are completely full of furniture, and everything is rich red and dark brown. It's not my style at all; it feels almost oppressive. I strip down to my boxers and flop down on the bed. It's been an exhausting day, and I still have a meal with Masen to get through before it ends.

I set an alarm on my phone for an hour before we are due to meet and crash out for the afternoon.

~-DTD-~

The alarm pierces my sleep. I'm really not ready to wake up, I hit snooze a couple of time, but then the realisation that I am going to have dinner with Masen wakes me up pretty fast.

I shower and shave quickly, and end up sitting naked on the floor of the room cursing myself for not unpacking my suitcase as soon as I arrived. I packed properly, but nothing is very suitable for an evening with Masen.

I eventually find a shirt that isn't too crumpled, and throw it on with some black trousers and a suit jacket, deciding to make use of the laundry service here for the other stuff. I fucking hate ironing, so if Masen wants to shell out for someone to do it for me, I'm not about to say no.

Throwing everything else into a laundry bag, I drop it off on my way to the restaurant. I'm still fifteen minutes early, so I settle down at the bar and have a drink while I wait. I only have a beer, still not sure if Masen is going to want me to drive him somewhere this evening. I can't imagine he has anywhere to be at this time on a Sunday evening, but then, before I knew him, I couldn't imagine anyone would feel the need to fire someone for making a simple mistake, so what do I know? I'm not really dressed to drive him anywhere, but I could always nip up and get changed after we eat.

He could help me.

I shake my head; I don't need to let my thoughts go there, especially seeing as I had no time to sort myself out in the shower before I came down.

Masen is exactly on time, unsurprisingly. He nods to acknowledge me, but walks straight through to the restaurant without stopping. He doesn't have his phone attached to his ear, which is something, I guess.

Catching up to him, we take a table away from the bulk of diners. He orders a bottle of wine for us both, not bothering to ask my preference. Not that I know much about wine choices, but he doesn't know that.

The waiter leaves us with the menus, and I try not to choke on my water as I see how much the food costs. I hope it's all being put on Masen's tab because I can't afford to be spending this much money on a meal.

We sit in silence as we read the menus, until the waiter brings the wine to the table. Masen checks that it's ok, and we place our food orders. I try not to obviously cringe at the amount of money he is dropping on a meal. I do a weekly shop for the amount he has just spent on a steak.

He breaks the silence as the waiter leaves. "Do you like your room?"

Telling him I only saw it for about ten minutes before I shut my eyes probably isn't the best plan – he is paying for me to stay here after all – so I edit my answer a little, "It's nice. The bed is comfy and I'm pretty sure I could have stayed in the shower for hours." I don't mention why.

Masen nods. "They have WiFi too, so if you've brought anything with you, just ring down to reception for the password."

I brought my laptop with me. I don't expect Masen to want to hang out much in the evenings, Emmett told me he was a workaholic, so I knew I would be left to my own devices.

"Thanks, I'll sort that out later."

We lapse into a slightly uncomfortable silence. I take a sip of my wine, to give me a chance to think of something to say. Normally I have no problems making conversation, but Masen makes me nervous. I feel like trivial conversation is below him, and I have no idea what he does for a living – nor do I care – so asking about work is out, too.

He doesn't seem bothered by the quiet, but I opt for banal conversation.

"How were your flights over? Apart from the lack of decent coffee, of course." I'm probably opening the gate for him to be a dickhead again, but I don't know where else to start.

"Awful. But my view is probably skewed by dreadful coffee, I will admit." He almost cracks a grin, and I almost fall off my chair.

I grab my wine again and take a sip while I compose myself - this could be an interesting night if we keep going the way we are, I could be hammered by the time our meals show up. The man is beautiful as it is, but that hint of a smile almost killed me, and I will do anything I can to get him to do it again.

"At least I know why you keep coming back to me then, no coffee to mess up in my car." I make a note to never pick him up in the limo, which has facilities for hot drinks.

Masen's cheeks turn a little pink as he drinks his wine. I'm convinced he's straight, but I've not eaten since this morning, and that combined with the beer and wine has gone right to my head. I decide to tease a little.

"Warm?"

Shifting in his chair, his eyes refuse to meet mine, "Yes, a little."

He takes his jacket off, and all of a sudden I am the one feeling uncomfortably hot. I definitely shouldn't have started this game.

I decide to move the conversation back to business, for my own sanity.

"I haven't seen any schedules for the week. When do you need me?"

Masen grabs his phone out of his pocket and presses a few buttons. "I've emailed my schedule to you."

So much for making conversation.

He doesn't provide any more details, so I pull out my own phone and quickly check down the list.

"If you're in meetings, do I have to stay at the building with you, or can I come back to collect you afterwards?" I really can't be arsed hanging around buildings for hours on end.

"As long as you're there when the meeting is over, you can do what you want. They have a tendency to overrun, but even so, I would prefer you to be available at least half an hour before the time they are due to finish. You never know."

I can't imagine any meeting with Masen under-running. Maybe if he didn't spend so long yelling at people he would have more spare time in his life.

"Maybe I should take your phone number. Then if anything changes I can get in touch with you." Masen's suggestion is a good one, but I feel like him having access to me at all times of the day might not work in my favour. However, the idea of having his mobile number is quite an attractive one, even though I would never use it for anything other than business.

I recite my number for him, and he enters it into his phone. He doesn't bother to pass his onto me, and I don't want to make it obvious that I would quite like it, so I decide to keep quiet.

At that moment, our meal turns up and I am stunned into silence anyway. I'm pretty sure I've never eaten anything that tastes as good as what is in front of me right now. I don't even hold back a groan when I get the first taste, although I do manage to stop myself from shovelling it all down as fast as I possibly can. I don't want Masen to think I'm disgusting.

We talk a little about the food while we eat. I probably come off as rude, giving only abrupt answers and mainly staring at my plate, but I can't look at Masen's lips wrapped around his fork more than I absolutely have to.

I find myself wishing I hadn't done my belt up quite as tight as I did by the end of the meal. At least it wasn't so pretentious a place that the portions were tiny, I guess. I'm feeling quite claustrophobic, though. Masen's presence makes my head cloudy – the alcohol probably doesn't help, to be fair - and I need a bit of a break.

Leaving him to make my dessert order, I nip outside to cool down a little, and decide to shoot off a quick email to Tanya. At least if Masen asks, I was working.

_**To: Tanya Denali**_

_**From: Carlisle Cullen**_

_Tanya,_

_All going well with Masen. No disasters yet. He hasn't employed anyone else and we must have spent at least 6 hours in the same building. I even bought him a coffee._

_Carlisle._

_._

I head back inside to Masen, who is engrossed with something on his phone. I bet it isn't Angry Birds.

Trying to stay quiet as I sit down, I pour myself a glass of water and nurse it until he finishes whatever he's doing.

"I ordered for you. It shouldn't be long." He has loosened his tie since I've been gone, and his top button is undone. It doesn't show off anywhere near as much of him as I would like to see, but it's just enough to make me want to climb over the table to undo the rest of them.

Masen probably wouldn't appreciate that, though. And Tanya would kill me if I got thrown off the job for molesting him.

"Thank you." I try to keep my manners impeccable around him; maybe some of it will rub off.

"My meeting starts at ten tomorrow, so we should leave about nine."

There is no question there, so all I can do is agree. We're not that far away from the city centre, but I don't know what traffic will be like, so nine is as good a time as any. From the quick glance I got at the calendar, he'll be there all day, so I can take the time to explore the city.

Dessert appears and it is decadent and amazing. I never normally eat food for the sheer enjoyment of it, but tonight has been a whole new experience.

Masen smiles at my obvious enjoyment, and I can't help but grin back, explaining, "Food's good!"

"It is. I'm impressed."

I shovel some more chocolate into my mouth, mostly to stop the comment I really want to say from coming out of my mouth, but also because it is seriously delicious. Some escapes onto my lip, clearly Masen incapacitates my judgement of portion sizes. I flick my tongue out to clean it up, and look up to see Masen's gaze fixed firmly on my mouth.

Colour rises in his cheeks, and he finishes the last of his wine, before standing up abruptly. "I have things I need to take care of upstairs. The meal is charged to my account. Enjoy your dessert."

And with that, he is gone.

I shake my head, pouring the rest of the wine into my glass. I don't know for sure what came over him, although I have a fairly good idea. What I really don't know, is what to do about it. He is a client, and an important one at that. He's clearly freaked out by whatever is going on, so trying to talk to him about it won't help anything.

My meal finished, I head up to my room. My phone beeps and buzzes in my pocket as I hang my jacket up, and I grab it, assuming it's Tanya replying to my email.

It isn't.

"_Cullen. So you have my number, too. In case you need anything. Edward Masen."_

Edward Masen. Edward. He has never once alluded to himself as Edward to me. And so he has become Masen in my head. Masen is the bullish, arrogant, business jerk, who I love to hate. But Edward... Edward seems more vulnerable. "In case you need anything," would never come out of Masen's mouth.

Jesus. What the hell is he doing to me that I'm Jekyll and Hyding him? Maybe I should find out his middle name and designate that guy to be the sports fan.

Edward fucking Masen is going to end me, one way or another. Possibly by turning me into a nutter.

I kick my shoes off and lie down on the bed, wondering what to save him under in my phone. My fingers seem to hover over the keys for an age, before I decide on "Masen." Maybe, just maybe, that will keep me from seeing him as anything other than a client.

I send him a quick text back. I'm sure he doesn't care if I've got his number or not, but I hate leaving text messages unanswered.

"_Thank you. I'll be sure to call if I need a recommendation of good coffee place. Coffee's an emergency, right?"_

I'm not sure how he will take my teasing, but he's spending a week with me, I can't hold back forever. I'd rather get my knowledge of how he reacts while he's in a different room, just in case it goes wrong. Not three minutes later, my phone beeps again.

"_I'm a businessman who travels the world, coffee is always an emergency. I will show you coffee houses you can only dream of. See you in the morning. Nine a.m."_

A smile tugs at my lips, I'm pretty sure that was a hint of a sense of humour. There might be hope for him yet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

I'm in the hotel lobby by half-past eight, chatting to the receptionist about places to see in Edinburgh. I can't really concentrate on what she's saying; although it's information I could really use, seeing as I have a whole day to kill, and no knowledge of the city.

My mind is on Masen, though. All of our journeys so far have been full of him on his phone, and me being polite but distant. We've eaten together now, and even exchanged a few texts, but I have no idea how to approach this journey. I don't know what he expects of me, whether he wants to carry on being all-business, or if we can relax a little now – when it's just us.

I shake my head. I should have slept longer, leaving myself less time to turn into an idiot. I try and catch up with what the receptionist is saying; I really do need some ideas of how to pass the day.

"There's the castle, and the zoo. But you have to pay to go to them." She looks at me apologetically, and I glance down at my suit, wondering if it looks like I can't afford to go to a zoo. This suit is from King and Allen; I can totally afford the zoo. But I wouldn't want to, not dressed like this. Tanya gave me some money for business expenses, and told me to buy some stuff for this trip; she would fucking kill me if she knew I wandered round visiting pandas in the clothes I bought.

The only decision I have come to is that I'm not going to the zoo, when the lift doors open and Masen strides out. He is on his phone and merely motions to the door.

I thank the receptionist and head out. The valet has kept the car running for us, so it is warm inside, a welcome contrast to the lingering morning chill.

Masen fails to acknowledge me as I hold his door open for him. He is having a heated discussion with whoever is on the other end of the phone. I wonder if he knows other people can still hear him if he speaks at a normal volume.

He spends the entire journey on his phone, solving my problem of how to deal with him. I find myself to be almost sad about that, though; I'd been hoping we could carry on one of our conversations, even if it was only about coffee.

I drop him off and decide to go back to the hotel. We check out tomorrow, but Masen is in meetings until mid-afternoon, so I will have to kill some time in town then.

Changing into something more comfortable, I make sure I've got my phone and camera with me before heading out to Holyrood Park. There is a hill there – Arthur's Seat - that's meant to offer some good views, so I decide to climb that. I'm fairly fit, despite spending most of my life sitting down. I enjoy getting out and about, and London doesn't have much to offer in that way, so this is a nice change.

I make it to the top, stopping a couple of times to chat to people. It takes me an hour or so, and the views are well worth the burn in my lungs.

My phone chimes while I am up there snapping pictures, and I curse when I see that it's Masen. I hope he doesn't need picking up now, because I won't be able to for at least another hour and a half.

"_Meetings are running over. Be outside by five this evening."_

Well, at least he doesn't need an immediate pick up. I bristle slightly at the formal tone, though. I guess our slight breakthrough last night was temporary.

I reply, so he knows I have got his message, and try to bring back a casual tone, just in case he was feeling awkward. I can't imagine Masen being awkward about anything, but it's worth a try.

"_Five it is. See you then. I hope the coffee is good, at least."_

I sit down, pulling my jacket off and gulping down some water. It's still a cold day, but the walk has left me hot. I'm cuing up my camera to take another photo when my phone buzzes again. I try to pretend to myself that I'm cool enough to ignore it while I get a decent picture, but I'm not, and I pull my phone out of my pocket.

"_Coffee sucks. Bring me some when you pick me up."_

His tone is abrupt, but it isn't like we're completely talking business. I am starting to feel, though, like we're only ever going to be able to have conversations if they start with coffee. Considering I usually can't start my day without the stuff, this shouldn't surprise me. I text him back quickly, assuming he is only taking a short break.

"_From anywhere in particular?"_

I don't even pretend to be cool and put my phone away this time, leaving it on my lap while I fiddle with the settings on my camera. A minute later, I have another message.

"_Surprise me. I bet you are sampling the caffeine-filled delights of Edinburgh as we speak. Find the best and bring me it."_

I laugh, attracting some looks from the few other people around, but not really caring.

"_Not quite. I'm up a hill."_

I've hardly put my phone down before it's chiming again.

"_What?"_

"_A hill. This one was formed by an extinct volcano."_

I'm not sure how he will take my slight teasing. But I don't really care, I'm too giddy about the fact he is conversing with me about something other than coffee and meeting times. I've never been a fifteen-year old girl, but I'm fairly certain this is how one feels; I'm a fucking ridiculous mess right now.

"_I don't believe you. You're at a bar, aren't you? You do know driving under the influence is illegal?"_

I grin and snap a photo of myself, with the view of Edinburgh behind me. Sending it before I can think better of it, I put my phone away and take a few photos with my camera, including one with me in. The phone camera's resolution is crap, and I want to send my sister a few pictures so the kids can see what I'm up to. They like hearing about the cool things I get to do when I drive to new places.

Pulling my jacket back on, I decide to head back down the hill. I check my phone, and there is a message from Masen waiting.

"_Okay, I believe you now. See you at five."_

It's a short text, ending our conversation, but he is probably just going back into meetings. I refuse to let myself over-think things.

Back at the hotel, I jump into a bath. I usually hate them –the thought of lying in a tub filled with water contaminated with your own grime is gross - but the baths here look _really_ appealing, and soaking my tired muscles seems like a good plan. I have a quick shower first. And then again afterwards.

Changing back into my suit, I decide to head out once I'm ready. There is still an hour to go before I have to meet Masen, but I need to pick up his damn coffee, too.

I park the car at the building Masen's meeting is in, and walk into town from there. I grab a Starbucks for him; I know nothing about coffee really, but I figure you can't go too far wrong with a chain store.

It's freezing cold and drizzling slightly, and I find myself glad that I picked a coffee up for myself, too. I gulp it down while trekking back to Masen's building, enjoying the warmth it provides. My legs are sore, the brief drive having given the muscles a chance to tense up in the same position. Maybe I won't be exploring the city tomorrow after all. A hotel as posh as the one we're at must provide massages somewhere, I might have to try that out instead, or the drive to Newcastle is going to be painful.

As I get to the building, I see Masen in the lobby. Checking my watch – it's only quarter to five, I'm early – I debate what to do. He is deep in conversation with someone, and I don't know whether to go in and give him his coffee now, or go and bring the car round.

I'm staring in through the glass doors when the decision is made for me. Masen looks up and sees me. His eyes lock with mine and I give him a feeble wave, holding his coffee up to show him. I look like a fucking idiot.

He walks out to meet me; shaking hands with the guy he was talking to and coming over to grab the coffee from me.

"Where's the car?" He sips his coffee and moans a little in pleasure as it goes down.

It takes me a minute to remember what he asked; the moan has filled my brain and pushed any coherent thought away.

"Oh, in the car park. You're early." I can't even filter what I'm saying. Why would I tell him he was early? I'm pretty sure he knows.

"The people in the meeting realised I was right. It's always the natural conclusion, and it speeds things up." He smiles at me and I make a note to buy him a Starbucks every time I see him if it brings this side of him out; maybe they laced it with something.

He sits in the back of the car with that smile plastered across his face, and I try to resist pushing him down across the seat and kissing the shit out of him. Grumpy Masen is hot, but Happy Masen is on a whole other level.

I drag myself to the driver's seat, and move us off while Masen fiddles on his phone and sips his coffee. The smile hardly leaves his face, and I am struggling to keep my focus on the road.

"We need to go out tonight, to celebrate. I've reserved us a table at a Michelin star restaurant. We can use the hotel's chauffeur service so you can have a few drinks. My treat."

I was trying to move away from traffic lights as he made this announcement. I am now holding up the entirety of Edinburgh having stalled the car. I haven't done that since I was seventeen and learning to drive. Happy Masen is rendering me useless at my job.

"Okay. Sounds like it'll be fun."

~-DTD-~

I'm rethinking the fun aspect of this plan, as I read the menu and recognise maybe three things on it. It is worth it, though: Masen is chatty, and happy.

"It's Emmett's idea that we celebrate when something goes well. He thinks we get more work done when we're out and chatting about what we did. I think he just likes drinking."

I can imagine Emmett finds a hangover preferable to dealing with Grumpy Masen. I can't blame him for taking any opportunity to drink.

"How come Emmett didn't come out this time?" I've been wondering since I saw the details of this trip; Emmett has been with him on every other visit.

"He's overseeing some business at home. I don't need him with me; I'm only ironing out details and completing deals. I can just about manage that on my own." He smiles at me to let me know he is joking, and I'm fairly sure my brain has melted. I can't deal with this new version of Masen, the version that is going to make me completely insane.

We order our food. I stick to names that I can pronounce and recognise, which narrows it down to one thing from each course. I guess that makes it simple for me.

Masen chats about his life growing up while we eat, and I learn more about Chicago than I ever thought I would want to. I find myself strangely fascinated, though. His cheeks turn pinker as he knocks back the wine, and all I want to do is reach out and hold his face in my hand, to see if his cheeks are as warm as they look. I get as far as cooling my hand on my glass of water, reckoning I can claim I was trying to cool him down. He stands up before I can move though, and while he is away from the table, I try and find my grip on reality.

I stop drinking at that point. Anything more will just increase the temptation coursing through my body, and I'm not sure I have much sense left in me as it is.

Fortunately, when Masen gets back to the table, he is apologetic.

"I didn't realise how late it was getting. I have to be back in for ten tomorrow, so we'd best head back to the hotel."

I nod, and call the chauffeur back while Masen settles the bill.

We both climb into the back of the car, Masen much more wobbly than me. His hand rests on my legs as he steadies himself and grabs his seatbelt. I can't even help the groan that slips through my lips, and as he rights himself, Masen stares at me.

I avoid his gaze, choosing to look out of the window instead.

The heavy silence in the car kills me, though, after our light-hearted evening, and I need to say something, anything.

"It's not often I get to enjoy the scenery."

Masen laughs, and if I wasn't belted in, I would probably be straddling him right now. Instead, I finally turn to him, wondering what tickled him. When I ask, though, he is cryptic. Well, as cryptic as a drunk person can be.

"I think you enjoy what you see while you drive."

Fuck. I'm so busted.

Masen doesn't seem angry, however, and while he continues to stare at me with a slight look of confusion for the rest of the journey, there is no malice.

We stumble back into the hotel and make arrangements for the next day, which I hope I remember. I type something on my phone, but knowing the drunken notes I leave myself, I'm not hopeful it will make sense in the morning.

The lift gets to my floor, and I turn to wish Masen goodnight, but find him following me.

"I want to check your room is okay. I don't want you staying anywhere I wouldn't stay myself." Clearly the alcohol has wiped out his brain cells containing the knowledge that we're in a five star hotel.

I nod, and unlock my door, thankful for my slight OCD issues, as the place is spotless. Masen steps right inside, and glances round for a minute, before turning back to me.

"It'll do, I guess."

The roll of my eyes happens almost reflexively; he really doesn't live in the real world. I don't know what to say, and I am getting increasingly uncomfortable with the sight of him standing in front of my bed. So I don't say anything, letting the silence stretch out.

Masen is studying me; his eyes are squinting slightly against the light in the room, making me feel like he is trying to bore a hole into my chest. I move around, needing to sit down. My legs are unsteady and my heart feels like it's about to take off.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stare up at Masen, who takes a step towards me.

His hands rest on my shoulders, and he brings his head down to mine.

I try not to squeak, or make any sort of embarrassing noise, but I have no idea what is going on, and – holy fuck – his face is so close to mine right now.

I've definitely turned into a teenage girl.

He crouches down a little, so his eyes are looking directly into mine. He is swaying slightly, so I reach to take hold of his hips.

Just to stop him swaying, of course.

"Carlisle."

It's the first time he has said my first name, and the sound goes straight to my groin. I wiggle a little, trying to manoeuvre the fabric of my trousers so it disguises how hard I'm getting, without bringing too much attention to myself. All I succeed in doing, however, is making Masen sway more, and he's either going to fall over or throw up. Neither of which are ideal. I'm just going to have to remain slightly uncomfortable until he leaves.

Or he sorts this problem out for me.

Okay, thinking like that _definitely _didn't help.

"Carlisle." Jesus. Again. I groan, and he bites his bottom lip before continuing. "What the fuck are you doing to me?"

I have no idea how to respond. I don't even really know what he's asking.

"I don't know, what am I doing?"

He closes his eyes, and I am cut off from the turmoil in them. When he reopens them, he appears more resolute.

"You're gay, right?"

I don't know how he knows. I'm fairly sure he knows more about me that he lets on, though; I've probably been background checked.

"Yeah." My voice breaks a little. For fuck's sake. Another mark in the 'I'm turning into a teenager' column. I swallow, and try again. "Yeah, I am"

He nods, obviously knowing this already. He draws in a deep breath, and I chase away a fleeting concern that I didn't put enough aftershave on before we came out. I'm a fucking idiot; his nostrils will be full of the smell of the booze he drank anyway. He breathes out and I change my mind immediately. Even with a hint of wine, the man smells delicious. Maybe the wine helps.

Masen is – obviously - oblivious to my inner monologue, thank God, and starts to speak, "Well I'm not. I'm not gay at all."

My heart feels like it is being crushed, but he breathes life back into it immediately with his next sentence.

"So how the fuck are you making me want to be?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Tanya Denali**_

_Carlisle,_

_How's it going?_

_Tanya_

_._

Well, that's the million-dollar question. I plug my phone in to charge, ignoring Tanya's email for now. I don't even have the words.

I can hear Masen crashing round in the bathroom, having made a brief escape after his declaration. I am glad for the chance to get my head together a little, not that I am managing it.

My confusion boils down to the fact that Masen is drunk as hell, or at least more than drunk enough to regret anything I push tonight. I really want to see how far we could get, though. It might be my one and only chance with him. He's obviously convinced that he's straight, and I try and push away the smugness that comes with knowing he wants me so badly that he is considering pursuing something.

The bathroom door handle starts to rattle, and I know that I have to be good. I can't fuck this up, especially considering we are still stuck together for another five days. While Masen is confounded with the door, I become resolute in my plan, and stand up to help him. Being on a bed won't help matters at all.

He manages to open the door before I get there, and we stand face to face for a minute.

"I should go. Work tomorrow."

I don't want him to, but it's for the best.

"I'll walk you up."

Masen shakes his head, insisting, "I can manage on my own," and immediately stumbles on his way to the door.

I grab my key card and walk out with him, ignoring his protests. I don't want him sleeping in the corridor because he can't find his room.

He leans against me in the lift, too tired to hold himself up completely; I am wedged in the corner as he presses the side of his body against mine. His head is resting against the mirrored wall, and his neck is almost begging to be kissed. I'm glad the ride is only short, because being good is fucking difficult.

Masen doesn't want to move as we reach his floor, and I end up taking his hand to pull him down to his suite. I probably could have taken his wrist or something, but I couldn't quite resist. His fingers lace with mine and I squeeze his hand as we reach his door. He stares at me for a moment as we stand there, and I smile at him, pulling my hand back.

"You need to find your key so you can get in," I remind him.

My comment brings him out of whatever trance he was in, and he fumbles through his pockets until he finds the card, holding it up to my face with a triumphant grin, "Got it!"

I take it from him, and let us both into his suite. He goes straight for what I assume is the bedroom, while I am left staring round at the room. I've never stayed in a suite in a hotel before – I've never had the money or the desire to – and it's like a different world. I don't really see why you would need to pay for a suite when you spend all day out of the room, but it's his money.

Masen appears in the doorway, and I take a step towards him. I can see his bed behind him and immediately regret moving.

"Thanks for walking me up. It was a good evening. I had fun." He's leaning against the doorway, his hair an absolute mess, and his cheeks are flushed. He looks utterly fuckable, and I step back again, nodding, unable to resist him for much longer.

"I had fun, too. I'd best go back now, though. I need some sleep; we've got a bit of a drive tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning."

I walk towards the main door, and hear Masen shuffling after me. I don't know how much more I can take, but I'm clearly a masochist, and I turn round one last time.

Masen takes hold of my shoulders when he reaches me, and pauses to look into my eyes. His eyes are gorgeous, and I almost lose myself in them. He breaks my gaze though, and lurches forward. At first I think he is falling, but his arms wrap around my body and I realise he is trying to hug me. His face is resting in the crook of my neck, and I can feel his steady breaths against my skin. I pull my arms from under his, and rest them around his shoulders.

We are there for a couple of minutes, not talking. I'm too busy concentrating on keeping my hardening cock from grinding into him, and God only knows what is going through Masen's head. Eventually, he pulls in a deep breath, obviously feeling the need to clarify what was going on.

"I'm not gay. I just... I wanted to see what it... I mean... see what _you_ felt like."

I almost laugh, he hasn't felt anything yet. But I just nod, and pull back.

"Well then, I hope it was good for you. But I really need to get some sleep." I also need to do something about this erection before I ask Masen to sort it out for me, but I don't think he'd want to hear about that.

"Okay, night, Carlisle."

I grin at the sound of my name, like a fucking idiot.

"Night..." I realise I don't know what I'm meant to call him – 'Mr. Masen' is a _little_ formal for this particular moment. Fortunately, he notices my problem and helps me out.

"Edward."

I nod. "Night then, Edward."

~-DTD-~

The next morning, I am down in reception early again. They will hold our bags here for us, so I packed up completely before coming down. I usually eat breakfast before I go anywhere, but Masen kept me up late last night, and I found it hard to drag myself out of bed to go and eat on my own. I plan to wander round town while he is working, so I will find somewhere to eat then. I can't quite resist the pull of a coffee, though. I get one from the hotel restaurant to go, and grab one for Masen too; he'll only bitch about it if I don't. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping it might give us something to make small talk about, too. We need to break the ice somehow, and I'm worried Masen will be feeling too awkward to initiate conversation.

The lift pings, I take a fortifying sip of my coffee and look up to face whatever the day will bring.

I didn't need to worry.

Masen marches out of the lift looking fresh as a fucking daisy. I don't know how he does it. He looks up and nods to greet me, before turning to the receptionist. There was no hint of last night in his eyes; there is no hangover from either alcohol or emotion visible on him. Lucky bastard. I look, and feel, like crap.

"My things are in my suite, ready for someone to pack them up and bring them down," Masen informs the bemused receptionist while he hands his key over.

I almost choke on my coffee. I'm not sure what policies they have here, but judging by the look on the poor girl's face, they don't often pack guests up. Before she can form a response, however, the manager comes bustling out of his office, shaking Masen's hand and assuring him that all of his ridiculous demands will be met.

Shaking my head, I push off the wall I'm leaning against and go out to the car, pretending to be busy until Masen finally comes out of the hotel.

I hand him his coffee after he is settled in his seat, and he gives me a small smile before picking up his phone and starting his day by shouting at some poor soul.

As I drive, I try to reconcile my conflicted feelings. There's the tug of disappointment I feel at him not even acknowledging last night. But then he's obviously a guy who is given the world by everyone around him, and yet seems to give no respect or thanks back. I don't understand why I care about what he thinks about me, and I don't know why I am giving him the time of day beyond a working relationship.

He exits the car at the office without even a thank you, and I try to resist the pull of the pub as I walk around the city centre. I take some photos for the kids; there's a busking man playing bagpipes and wearing a kilt, so I snap a picture of him before throwing some money in his pot. I try to grab a few snaps of places I saw from the hill I climbed yesterday, so the kids have some context.

Before long, I can't ignore my rumbling stomach, and head to a pub for a full Scottish breakfast. It's almost the same as a full English breakfast – they add a potato scone which is always welcome – and it's just about enough food to quiet my stomach for a while. I read the papers, catching up on the sports news before reading the real news. I try to resist flipping to the business section, but after twenty minutes or so of pretending to care about fun runs and all the other crap news they put in as filler, I scour the pages for a mention of Masen's name. I still don't know what he does, and if I asked him to explain it to me I'm sure it'd go right over my head, if he bothered to tell me at all. He isn't mentioned though, and I searched thoroughly.

I feel more human with a stomach full of food, and scribble out a couple of postcards – one for my sister and the kids, and one for Tanya – before dropping them in a post box on my way to collect the car.

Before long, it's time for me to drive back to the hotel to pick our bags up, and while I'm there, I take the opportunity to apologise profusely to the receptionist for Masen's demands. It's not my fault he's so self-important, but I don't want us both tarred with the same brush, even if the likelihood of me staying in this hotel ever again is remote.

I'm not sure if Masen will have eaten, but I know I will get peckish, and there's no way I'm stopping at services unless I have to – not that Masen would eat anything from there anyway. I grab some take-out food for us from the restaurant, it's only some sandwiches and snacks, but from a place like this, they are bound to be good.

If Masen doesn't want his, I'll eat it.

~-DTD-~

The journey to Newcastle should take around three hours. Ninety minutes in and I'm fairly sure Masen's voice is going to crap out on him soon. The man who was so happy at whatever happened in Edinburgh has disappeared. Clearly, the business in Newcastle is a whole new kettle of fish, and he is determined to make sure everything is in order. And when he found out certain documents hadn't been sent to the right people, he exploded.

I've got no idea how many different people he has spoken to, all the phone calls are blurring into one now, but I can't remember him being nice to a single one.

The time for celebrating is clearly over.

We're stuck in a traffic jam. A ridiculous amount of this journey seems to be filled with single lane roads, and we haven't moved in the last ten minutes. I grab my sandwich out of the cooler and tuck in. Masen is still ranting; it's rapidly becoming the soundtrack to my days. I almost tune it out, which is why it takes me a little while to recognise he is now talking to me.

"Can't you have picked a better route?"

Jesus.

I meet his eyes in the rear view mirror while I swallow my bite of sandwich. "No. Unless you wanted to drive through national parks. I'm not sure this car is built for off-roading, though. And I'm not great at avoiding trees in the dark."

He rolls his eyes at me, before noticing what I'm doing.

I've got his food out of the cooler before he's even got the question out of his mouth.

He smiles at me as he unwraps it, probably the first proper smile I've seen out of him all day, and I smile automatically in response.

"Did you make this yourself?"

I laugh, "No. I'm an okay cook but I don't really do fancy sandwiches. It's a bit too artistic for me. Give me a chip butty any day."

"A what?"

"Jesus. A chip butty. Chips, in a sandwich." I can't believe he's never had the pleasure.

"Chips?"

"Yeah, chips, fries, whatever the hell you call them. In bread. It's amazing, and I know where we're stopping on the way to the hotel now." He doesn't know what he's missing. All that fucking money and he's never even bothered with the simple pleasures in life.

Masen just nods, clearly bemused at the conversation. I can't blame him, really.

Traffic eventually moves, and we crawl along. The hotel Masen has chosen is another half hour on the other side of Newcastle, so it's a longer journey than I expected.

As we get closer to the hotel, we hit roads with a few shops on them, finally finding some built up areas, and I pull over when I spot a chip shop.

Masen gets out to have a look in the chip shop, seeing what food is available, and probably trying to be assured I'm not lying to him about this. He wanders off to stretch his legs, while I buy him the one of the best things he will ever eat.

I jog over to where he is sitting, overlooking some rolling hills, with his long legs out in front of him. He looks positively delicious, even more so than this food.

"My treat." I finally stop drooling and reach him, handing over his sandwich before sitting down next to him.

He looks unsure, but I bump his shoulder with mine, "Just one bite. I'll finish it if you don't want it."

Nodding, he grimaces as he brings it up to his mouth, taking the tiniest bite he can manage, while still getting chips and bread.

He chews for a while, a long while, as I watch his reaction carefully. I want to have shown him something he likes. I don't have much to give him, so introducing him to new things while he's here is something I can do. Finally, he swallows his bite and grins at me, "It's not bad. Not bad at all."

"You should take it back to America. Well, not that one – it'd get cold. But you know what I mean. Chip butty vendors. It can be your new business venture. You can give me a cut."

I stop talking, because I'm waffling. I also stop talking because I _really_ want to eat this.

"You mean you want to give up driving to become a businessman?"

I shake my head while I eat.

"I want to give up driving while you can earn some money for me." I look up at him, hoping he gets that I'm kidding and not thinking he's about to marry me or something.

He gets it.

"Oh, I see how it is. You ply me with weird British food and then send me out to earn your keep for you."

"Hey! Chip butties are not weird."

"I love that that's what you take offence at."

I try not to react too strongly to him saying the word 'love' in relation to something about me. I'm a fucking idiot.

We eat in a comfortable silence. I'm so happy the slight tension between us is gone, the food is almost inconsequential. Almost.

I jump up, and cringe at my greasy hands, and Masen passes me a napkin.

"I grabbed them while you were ordering. I know you're a bit funny about mess."

Oh, God.

"You noticed that?"

"It's hard not to. There are bottles of antibacterial gel everywhere in that car!"

He's right, there are.

"What can I say, some people are dirty."

A blush appears on his cheeks at my words and I grin, patting him on the shoulder with my nice, clean hands.

"Come on, dirty boy. We'd better get to the hotel. It's almost past my bedtime."

He jumps into the passenger seat, making a show of putting the antibacterial gel on his hands. I'm not sure where this fun Edward has appeared from; I'm fairly sure there was no alcohol in the back of the car. I'm not complaining, though.

Masen insists that I tell him about more 'weird' British food, and I promise him I will try and hunt some down for him while he is working.

He still hasn't mentioned last night, and I'm reluctant to push it. As long as he is happy in my company, that is the main thing. He thinks he's straight, and he's probably just trying to figure everything out in his head.

That's what I tell myself anyway.

When I lie in bed that night, though, reading a text message from him, I wonder if he is just feeling a little awkward talking about it in person.

"_Thanks for making a boring trip, interesting. That's two nights in a row you have shown me something new. What will tomorrow bring? – Edward"_

I'm not sure what the hell to reply. I go for something generic, in the end.

"_Who knows? Every day is an adventure with me. Maybe tomorrow I will let you lead the way. Goodnight, Edward. – Carlisle"_

* * *

__**Britishisms: Busking is when people perform (usually music but sometimes magic shows etc) in public places. They put out some sort of container for passers-by to put money into.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

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**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. And Becca helped me with my Newcastle references in this chapter, so thanks to her, too :)  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

It's a sunny day in Newcastle, which is something of a rarity, I'm led to believe.

Masen's meeting starts at nine, so I make sure I'm in the hotel restaurant by seven and eating a huge breakfast. We leave here tonight, and I'm not sure if we will have a chance for an evening meal before we go, so I'm taking no chances.

I can see the lobby from where I'm sitting, so I don't bother to wait for Masen by reception. I much prefer the comfort of the restaurant to sitting amongst the crazy flood of people heading out for the day.

The waiter comes over, and I ask for a couple of coffees to take out. It's better safe than sorry with Masen, and I'm not sure if breakfast was included with our rooms. Either way, he is paying for it, so I'd best give him a little something in return.

I let Masen wait in the lobby just long enough for him to start getting flustered, before heading out. I meet him with a smile on my face and his drink held out to him.

He takes it from me, sipping it immediately, "Thanks, Carlisle."

My reaction to him saying my name is as strong as it was the first time, and I head towards the car in an attempt to hide it from him.

I turn the air conditioning on in the car, even though it is largely unnecessary – the day isn't _that _nice. I need to get rid of some of the heat in my cheeks though, and Masen inside settling the bill is the perfect chance to do it.

Once we are on our journey, Masen is chatty. I was expecting him to be on his phone the whole time again, but I'm not complaining. We make small talk about the weather, my plans for the day, and what the arrangements for collecting him are.

"Did you enjoy breakfast?"

I hope he's not angry. I'd forgotten he would see my breakfast on the bill when he paid.

"Yeah, it was good, I definitely needed it. I hope it's ok that I ate, I can pay for it if you want." Knowing the places Masen chooses to stay in, it probably cost about a hundred pounds for the food or something ridiculous like that, so I'm hoping he says no.

"No, it's fine. I don't want you collapsing on the job. I always seem to be too busy to eat in the mornings, but I'll have to see if I can join you at the next place. Especially if the breakfasts are as good as you say they are."

I'm not sure if dealing with Masen first thing in the morning is ideal, but I can't help feeling pleased at the prospect of extra time with him.

"I can introduce you to British breakfasts, although I think yours are more exciting than ours."

He laughs, "I usually just drink coffee, so I'm guessing food is a better idea than that. As long as I get a coffee too, obviously."

God forbid the man doesn't get his caffeine hit. I can't even imagine how grumpy he would be without it.

We make our way through the heavy traffic towards the centre of Newcastle, and I feel I can relax when we are only a few minutes away from the building, with twenty to spare. Driving in rush hour stresses me out.

Masen has been quiet for a while, and so it takes me by surprise when he leans forward, putting his arm over the top of the seat.

His hand is on my shoulder.

His hand is on my shoulder and I'm fairly sure I've forgotten how to turn the steering wheel.

I just about manage to resist leaning my head to the side so his hand is touching my cheek. Just.

Flicking my eyes to his in the mirror, I see his smirk, and he asks "Do you think you can cope without me for a whole day? It's a long one today."

It really was, considering we also have a three hour-drive after he finishes. He isn't due out of meetings until after six this evening. We need to squeeze in a meal, too.

I smile back at him, though. "I'm a big boy. I'm sure I can entertain myself for a while."

He flushes slightly, and leans back in his seat. I immediately miss the feel of him so close to me, but it isn't really a practical way to travel.

We finally pull up to a grey, nondescript building which will be his prison for the next nine hours or so. Suddenly, being able to get out and about for the day doesn't seem like such a bad idea. I leave my car at the car park attached to the concrete jail, and set off on foot.

~-DTD-~

I'm pretty sure my balls are about to freeze off.

In all my 'let's enjoy the fresh air' wisdom, I hopped on a river cruise. It might be a nice day, but it's still March, and it's quite chilly. Ridiculously, I opted for a three-hour trip, which takes us down to the sea and back, just in case I wasn't cold enough.

Having spent most of the trip drinking hot drinks and ignoring the view, I decide I should probably go and take some pictures.

Definitely should have invested in some gloves. And a scarf.

I snap a few pictures, including one of me looking completely windswept with a bright red nose, before giving in and going back to where it's warm.

Why do they run cruises in fucking March in Newcastle anyway?

I don't even like boats.

I check my watch and figure Masen must be breaking for lunch soon, so I text him.

_Any idea when you will be finished? – Carlisle_

He doesn't reply straight away, so I busy myself sorting some photos to send through to my sister. I check in with Tanya, too, aware that I never replied to her email the other night.

_Hi Tanya. All well here. Sorry for the delayed reply – Masen is keeping me busy. No disasters, yet. – Carlisle._

That is probably as true as I can make it. I'm sure she doesn't want to know that I have made Masen question his sexuality, or that he has made me question my sanity. Maybe I should go and stand on deck for a while; the wind might blow some sense into my brain.

Finally, _finally_, the boat pulls back into the dock, and I walk off as fast as I can manage with a slight wobble – I definitely don't have sea legs – and head to the nearest pub for a pint.

I flick through a newspaper while I'm there – deliberately choosing one with no real business pages – and notice there is some football on tonight. I decide that Masen needs to be introduced to that particular English love, and spend the afternoon hunting down a sports bar that he would eat in.

While I am searching, I finally get a text from him. It's brief; clearly he is busy today. I guess only having one day to sort anything will do that to you.

"_Be here by six-thirty. We've had no time for a lunch break because these people are morons. We need to eat before we drive."_

Well, at least I haven't wasted my afternoon. I'm not sure what sort of mood he will be in when I get him, though. I hunt down a slightly more posh restaurant just in case he flips at having to go to a sports bar. He wants to see new stuff, and while I'd love to drag him to the hotel in Manchester and show him a whole host of new things, I'm not sure it would be entirely appreciated. A sports bar is a safer option.

There are a couple more hours to kill before Masen will be done, and I'm stuck in town, so I head to a museum to keep warm; there is a chill setting in as it gets later in the day and I'm fed up of wandering around outdoors. So much for not wanting to be cooped up; give me a roof any day.

I spend most of my time at the museum not looking at any of the exhibits, but staring out of the windows in the cafe instead. I resist any food, knowing I'm eating with Masen soon, but I don't manage to resist the lure of coffee; I've got a long drive this evening, so I have an excuse.

It starts to rain as I leave to collect Masen, and I curse myself for trusting that the weather will stay the same all day. I don't have a hood on my coat, my hair is plastered to my head with water by the time I get to Masen's building. He's going to go ballistic when he realises we need to walk to where we're eating.

I bet he looks fantastic in the rain, though.

An umbrella may be an idea, though, so I pop up to the car and grab one from the boot, before heading down to drip all over the lobby of the building.

He is out shortly after half-past six, and suitably horrified that we are walking.

"But it's raining."

I've shown him the umbrella; I don't know why he's still bitching.

"You want the whole English experience, we deal with crap weather. All the damn time. We'd have to park the car so far away anyway that we might as well just walk from here. It's not far."

"But... it's raining."

"It's only water. It won't kill you. Well, unless you're the Wicked Witch of the West?"

I'm starting to think he might be, to be honest.

He sighs, and buttons his coat right up over his mouth. He looks like a five-year old and I laugh at his grumpy face. For someone who commands so much respect from people he works with, he can be an idiot.

We walk briskly to the bar. I end up holding the umbrella, despite Masen being taller. I may occasionally let it drift so he gets a little wet.

I was right; he looks amazing in the rain.

I think he gets a bit of a shock when we arrive at the bar, and I have to shove him inside a little so we're not blocking the doorway as he looks round, his fingers poised on his top button, their job forgotten, momentarily.

"Is this okay? You wanted different. This is different."

Why do I care so much that he likes what I have chosen for us to do?

Masen nods, and leads us over to a table which is far enough away from the bar and TV screens that we can talk without shouting. It's impossible to get away from the chatter completely, but as long as he's comfortable, that's the main thing.

I can still see the TV screens, which is also important.

He finally takes his damn coat off, grimacing as he runs his hand though his damp hair. I don't even bother to pretend to look sorry; I don't think I could pull it off convincingly anyway.

I push a menu in his direction and then change my mind.

"What?"

"You have to choose something you wouldn't normally choose. Something that's local. Or at least something you wouldn't get at home."

He frowns at me, and I start to wonder if this was a good idea.

"For fuck's sake. Why?"

"Different. That's the game this week."

He stares at me for a minute, and I'm fairly sure he is debating whether or not to leave. He reaches over the table and pulls the menu back to himself.

"Fine. But if it's horrible, you're paying. And buying me something from somewhere else."

Because the man can't afford to buy more than one meal.

"Okay, whatever. You'll like it though, I didn't steer you wrong with the chip butty."

He cracks a smile for the first time since I picked him up.

"That's true."

While he focuses on the menu, I let my gaze drift to the TV, ignoring his grumbles about some of our food being weird.

"Why are they selling Yorkshire Pudding as a main course?"

I finally tear my eyes away from the team news, and look at Masen.

"Because that's what it is."

The menu is upside down, but I can spot a picture of one, so I point it out to him. Usually I would encourage conversation with him but I _really _want to see who has been picked for this game.

"Why is it called pudding, then?"

Jesus.

"I don't know. I didn't name it. Yorkshire is a big county, maybe they just demanded it was called a pudding and everyone else gave in. I would recommend it, though. It's lovely. With the braised beef and Guinness. I'd say you were encompassing the whole of the British Isles with that one."

"Does that mean I'm off the hook for the rest of the week?"

He looks adorably hopeful. As if I am torturing him by making him eat our food.

"Nope, sorry. 'Different' runs all week long. Speaking of which, what do you want to drink?"

He goes to say something and then stops himself. I grin at him and he starts again, "Whatever's local."

"Right answer. Points to you."

I go up to the bar to order. I get myself a burger which will probably piss Masen off, but I'm enjoying this game too much to stop it now. His local drink is Newcastle Brown Ale; you can't get much more local than that.

The guy next to me at the bar starts chatting about the football, filling me in on the team news while the barman is pouring our pints. We trade predictions for the outcome of the match, and I promise to buy him a drink if he is right. He won't be. He goes for an away win, which will never happen. My money is safe, which is lucky given Masen's demand for food if he hates his.

The barman hands me our drinks and a numbered inflatable rugby ball which will mark our table. I shove it under my arm and try not to spill the pints on the way back to the table.

As I slide back into my seat, the rugby ball falls out from under my arm and rolls over to Masen. He picks it up and looks at it, before shaking his head and placing it at the end of our table.

"Never had a novelty table number before?" I can't help myself.

"Not that I remember. Most places I go to they come to your table to take your order."

Why does that not surprise me?

"Ah well, there you go then. Another different thing for your day. You're so adventurous, Edward."

He laughs, rolling his eyes at me and turning to face the bar, and the TVs. The smile drops from his face as he turns, though, and I wonder what is up with him.

Masen being Masen, it's not long before I find out.

"Did you know that guy at the bar?"

Oh, Masen. Poor, jealous Masen. I must not laugh.

"No, why?"

"You just seemed friendly, that's all. I wondered if you knew him."

God forbid you ever have a friendly conversation with someone. To be fair, it doesn't seem to be something Masen is accustomed to.

"We were talking about the match. It was just friendly banter, trash talking each other a bit while I was waiting for the drinks." I nod towards his, which is untouched, "Are you not going to try it?"

He pulls the glass towards him, it grates against the wooden table and I cringe a little. He sees my reaction, and picks it up. I don't know what he thinks is in the drink, but I've never seen anyone bring a drink to their lips so slowly in my life.

Finally, he takes a sip, and then a little more, and eventually drinks it like a normal human being.

Nodding, he puts the glass back down, "It's not bad."

"See? Trust me."

He smiles a little, and then turns his attention back to the TV.

"So what's going on then?"

"Champions League. The best teams in Europe play each other for a cup every season."

"Soccer, right?"

The game hasn't started yet, so he can be forgiven for not knowing which sport it was, but I cringe at the term.

"Football. But yeah."

He nods, ignoring my correction, "I never really got into it. It's not that big at home. I'm more of a baseball fan."

I laugh. "It's almost a requirement of being a citizen of England that you like football. But we get some American sports on TV too, they're good, you just need to speed them up a bit."

He laughs, and proceeds to explain to me why exactly American sports are played at exactly the right pace, and I tune him out and watch the football while pretending to listen to him.

Our food arrives, and the rugby ball that Masen finds so offensive is removed from our table.

He looks at his food with disdain, and I wonder when he will just accept that I am right and take my word for things being nice. I ignore him, like I used to do when my nephews start fussing over food, and eventually he picks at it on his own.

Maybe treating him like a child is the best way to go. He likes telling everyone what to do, he hates walking anywhere, and has temper tantrums when things don't go his way. I don't need earplugs and beers, I fucking need Supernanny.

As is the way things go, he starts to enjoy his food, and hasn't even bothered to complain about me eating a burger and chips. I have one eye on the football, and we are both so damn hungry that we don't even make an attempt at conversation while we eat.

I push my plate away from me, absolutely stuffed, just as the home team go one-nil down. The guy from the bar grins at me and pretends to drink an imaginary pint to remind me of our deal. I shake my head at him, pointing at my watch and he laughs and shrugs. There's still plenty of time for me to win the bet yet.

Turning back to Masen, I see he has stopped eating, too. His eyes are going from me, back to the bar, and back again and I give him a half grin.

"I'm losing our bet," I explain.

He raises his eyebrows, but says nothing else, pushing his food around the plate for a while before giving up on it.

"Should we get going?" He drains the rest of his pint after he asks, and I glance at my empty glass and my watch. It's gone eight o'clock; it probably is time to get going. We won't get there until half-eleven as it is.

I nod, and he disappears off to the toilets, while I grab the guy at the bar – who finally introduces himself as Ben - a drink. I won't be able to see the bet out, and I'm fairly convinced he won't win it, but I don't want to go back on my word. We chat a little at the bar, but we are interrupted by Masen who claps his hand down onto my shoulder.

"We'd better get going."

Offering Ben an apologetic smile, I agree with Masen and we head out. The weather is still awful, but he can carry the umbrella if he's going to be such a girl about things. I can deal with wet hair.

He surprises me at the car, by sitting in the passenger seat. He's clearly exhausted, and I thought he would spend the journey crashed out on the back seat, but when I mention that to him he shakes his head, "No, if you're awake I'll stay awake, too. Keep you company."

Twenty minutes into the journey he is sawing logs next to me and I can't hear the radio over him. Fucking hell. So much for keeping me company.

He wakes as we come off the motorways and slow down through Manchester. He is apologetic but I can't blame him. I would have slept if I could have.

We're staying at the Hilton in Manchester, and I have never been happier to see a bed in my life. I make quick arrangements with Masen for the next day, and wish him a good night's sleep, before getting to my room as fast as possible.

The bed is heaven, and I am half asleep when my phone beeps.

"_Sorry for falling asleep on you. I had been looking forward to our three-hour trip, too. Thanks for all the new stuff today. Same again tomorrow? – Edward"_

I know I need to reply. I wish he could say this stuff to my face, and not when I am half asleep in bed and the phone light feels blinding.

"_I'll do my best. I won't make you watch football tomorrow; we can do something more fun. Night – Carlisle"_

~-DTD-~

I drop Masen off at work the next morning, drive back to the hotel and go straight back to bed. He has a fairly long day today, and Manchester has nothing to offer me that's more appealing than sleep right now.

The beeping of my phone drags me out of my dreams, and I grab it to see a text from Tanya thanking me for the postcard.

Well, I say thanking.

"_Carlisle. It's always nice to have a reminder that you are a long way away from me, and not causing any trouble. Speaking of which, I have emailed Masen as a courtesy to see how the trip is going. Anything you need to tell me before he replies?"_

Jesus. He could say any number of things.

I don't really know what to reply, so I go with something a bit jokey. At least then if he complains, I haven't claimed it's all brilliant or something.

"_I have been the good boy you know and love me to be. Carlisle" _

She's clearly working hard, as my phone beeps again within the minute.

"_That's what I was afraid of."_

~-DTD-~

I've done absolutely nothing productive with my day. I should feel guilty, but I've been racing round like an idiot the last few days, and it's been good to have a lazy day.

Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I glance up to see if there's any sign of Masen. We agreed on a six p.m. pick up, and it's now twenty-past and he still hasn't arrived. We haven't planned anything for the evening; I think we might just stay at the hotel if he's okay with it. I really can't be bothered finding somewhere Masen-esque to eat, and I doubt he would deal with pub food two days in a row.

I pass some time looking up the hotel restaurant menus on my phone. I'm pretty sure they will pass muster with Masen, and I can pretend I didn't decide we can go there within the last five minutes now I know a few details about it.

God knows what the hold-up is, and I don't know what sort of mood he will be in when he finally gets out of the meeting. At least if I've made a vague plan it's one less thing he needs to worry about.

The internet drags me in, as it always does, and I only realise Masen is out when I hear the car door open behind me.

"Too busy to even get my door now? I see how it is. Maybe I should pop that in my email to Tanya."

I spin round in my seat. He is smiling. Thank fuck.

"Sorry. The internet, you know how it is."

I do feel bad. I hate not doing my job properly.

Masen shrugs, "It's fine. I was late; you had to distract yourself from missing me somehow."

He's in a cracking mood; the meeting must have gone really well. Wow.

I drive us back to the hotel while he chatters on about people knowing what's good for their business and various other things I can't bring myself to care about.

"Where are we eating tonight? What's local for Manchester?"

I have no idea.

"I thought we'd just stay at the hotel tonight. The restaurant has some good local-ish food, and you can let your stomach recover from eating at a bar yesterday."

And I can drink.

He nods, "That sounds okay to me. I'll just shower and change. Meet you in the bar at seven-thirty?"

I agree, and he jumps out of the car and is gone before I've handed the keys over to the valet.

The lift takes forever to arrive, and I curse Masen for dashing off. There's less than thirty minutes before he wants to meet, and I could do with having a drink before spending the entire evening with him. He still puts me slightly on edge; I can't ever forget that he is a client, and a client who is insistent that he is straight, no less. I have to tread carefully around him, and I hate being on my guard all the damn time.

So a drink would be nice, just to relax a little.

I just about make it, finishing a drink as Masen strolls in.

He looks amazing, he's still wearing a suit, but no tie and the top couple of buttons on his shirt are undone. I'm not sure if my admiration is completely blatant, but his cheeks are pink when he reaches me, making him look even more delicious.

He declines a drink, and we walk straight through to the restaurant.

Our waiter is attentive and we have drinks and our food ordered within a matter of minutes.

"I emailed Tanya back about you." Masen smirks at me and takes a sip of his drink.

"Did you tell her I'm not opening doors for you and making you walk to places in the rain?"

"Not to mention making me eat weird British food." He will never stop complaining about that, which is odd considering how much he enjoys what I'm introducing him to.

"Essentially, I am torturing you," I agree.

He laughs, "And that is basically what I've said in the email."

I nod at him, "I expected nothing less."

He fiddles with his napkin for a while, not making eye contact with me. I sip at my drink and look around the restaurant and the other patrons, wondering where they work and why they're here. I wonder if they know I'm not really one of them. It's weird to not feel completely out of place somewhere like this.

"I said it was all going well." Masen has been quiet for a couple of minutes, and I glance up at him in surprise. "To Tanya," he clarifies. "I told her I was more than happy with how things were going. Just so you know."

"Thank you. I'm glad you think so." I really am grateful, he does hold my job in his hands, Tanya would kill me if I fucked this up. Knowing he is happy with how things are going makes me pleased for myself, too.

Our food arrives. Masen has chosen Welsh lamb with various trimmings, including Jersey potatoes, and he points out that he is covering some of the places he missed out with yesterday's meal. I have a steak, which is absolutely beautiful. I really could get used to this fine dining experience.

Once again, the food renders us silent as we just enjoy it.

We share a bottle of wine that Masen chose, as we eat. I am probably drinking a little too much, but Masen is playing host and refilling my glass for me, and I'm not about to say no.

As we finish our meals, we talk about what we've done throughout the day. He's been busy completing deals and acting like he rules the world, and I grudgingly admit to him that I have essentially done nothing throughout the day.

"Seriously, nothing?" He looks askance at my admission.

"Well, I drove you to work, picked you up, and chose where to eat. Oh and I text Tanya a couple of times to let her know how much of a pain in the arse you are. But yeah, apart from that, not a lot. I'm working seven days in a row thanks to you; it's not really my usual style."

He doesn't reply for a while, I think he's trying to decide whether I've just completely insulted him. I haven't, but it could come across like that. I think by now he gets my humour, though.

In the end, he lets it go. Looking at his watch, he grimaces and apologises to me, "I have to go and make a few calls."

I nod, sorry that our evening is cut short.

We travel in the lift together, his suite is a few floors up from me and I wish him a good night before I step out.

Back in my room, I strip until I'm just in my boxers, fed up of wearing suits and ties and shirts. Lying back on the bed, I flick through the TV channels. As usual there is fuck-all on.

Having been so pleased to have a day to myself, I am now kind of sick of the walls of my hotel room and wishing I had used my day more productively.

I decide to shower to kill some time, it's still a bit early for me to give in and go to bed.

My shower is cut short, however, by my phone ringing, and I almost kill myself rushing to get it - skidding across the bathroom floor with my wet feet – and make it to my phone in time for it to ring off. I check the call log.

It was Masen.

I call him back straight away. I don't even get a 'hello.'

"I was surprised you didn't answer straight away, I thought you were doing nothing for the whole day."

"Maybe doing nothing includes not answering your phone calls."

He laughs, trailing off to leave an awkward pause.

"What's up?" I had to ask, much as I want to make him get some balls and talk to me –considering he called me - I fucking hate awkward silences.

"I was wondering if... if you wanted to come up to my suite. I've made the calls I needed to, but I don't feel like going back down to the bar again."

I'm surprised at his question, and it takes me a second to reply.

"Yeah, sounds good. I've just showered." Fuck. I didn't mean that the way it came out. "I mean, I just need to dry off and get dressed, and then I'll be up."

He coughs, and gives me the number of his suite, before ringing off.

I pull on some loose fitting jeans and a t-shirt. I'm not bothering with suits; if he wants me at ten at night then he's getting me in comfy clothes. I grab my key card and stow it in my pocket before heading up to his suite.

He hands me a whiskey before I'm even through the door.

I don't refuse.

He's got some news channel on the TV and we sit in the lounge of his suite. One of his phone calls was to Emmett, and he laughs as he tells me about how impressed Emmett was that I got him into a sports bar.

"He's convinced I'll go out with him when I'm home now. I usually refuse. I'm not adverse to the idea as long as it's only once every few months I guess. I think he'll be a very different companion to you, though."

"How come?" I'm guessing he doesn't have homoerotic feelings about Emmett. That would probably change things.

Masen smiles, and it's so nice to see him thinking fondly of someone he works with. "Emmett is a bit of a jock. Do you have them here?"

"Not under that umbrella – oh, sorry if the mention of umbrellas brings back a bit of trauma from last night." I can't help myself. Alcohol makes me mouthy. "But we have the equivalent. I know what you mean, at least."

"Yeah, well watching sports with him is a total nightmare. So I've resisted so far. Maybe I will join him for a few not-important games. Mind you, not that many games are not important to Emmett."

I don't know if the first impression I got of Edward was so wrong, or if he's really changing this week, but this guy, who is laughing and joking, talking to me about work and changing the way he acts at home, is rapidly working his way into my head. I like hanging out with him; I'm going to be sad when the week ends.

He tells me more about working with Emmett, and I'm glad he has someone like that around to keep his feet on the ground. I think Emmett pisses him off a lot of the time, but his presence is vital to keep Masen balanced, and Masen knows it.

My glass is refilled a couple more times, as is his. He is sitting closer and closer to me on the sofa, his knee is brushing against my thigh and my brain is completely fuzzy.

He is quiet, but the silence doesn't bother me as I rest my head against the back of the sofa. The TV is murmuring in the background, and I listen to the international news.

Opening my eyes, I almost startle at how close Masen is to me. His face is so close to mine I can feel his breath against my neck.

He closes his eyes and pulls in a deep breath, and begins to speak, with his usual disclaimer "I'm not gay."

"Okay." At this moment I don't care what he feels the need to say to make himself feel better. I want to know what he actually has to say.

I turn to face him, and we are so, so close. My hand comes to rest on his knee, only gently, but I needed more of a connection with him.

He swallows nervously, and moves even closer to me, starting to speak again.

"I just... I want to try it. Just a kiss. I need to see what it's like."

The pressure is on; this is the kiss he will judge all gay kisses on. I don't want to put him off. I haven't even kissed him yet and I'm fairly sure I will want to do it again, so this one needs to be good.

I take a quick sip of my drink, and then put my glass down on the table. I don't need a spilt drink ruining everything.

My hand runs up over his arm and into his hair, and I press our foreheads together, "Is this ok?" Masen's breathing is quick, but he nods, moving his head a little so our lips meet.

He is tentative, nothing like the demanding businessman I have come to know, and it takes me by surprise. I take control of the kiss, not pushing it, but moving it along. I don't want to scare him, but, fuck, I really need to kiss him properly. My hands tighten slightly in his hair, and I want _him_ to take control, to figure out that it's something he wants.

He groans and pushes me back against the arm of the sofa. He is half lying over me and, while his hands are firmly planted on the cushion either side of me, he has definitely taken over and I am more than happy about that.

His tongue runs against mine and it's my turn to groan. He doesn't push it any further than that, and I try to keep myself under control. I don't want to fuck this up because, judging by the way he kisses, I really want to see what else he has to offer. Even if it's not tonight.

Eventually he pulls back, and rests his head in the crook of my neck. His breathing is still heavy, and I run my hands up and down his back, trying to concentrate on anything except grinding my erection into his thigh for a bit of relief.

I cringe as the news channel repeats the news at the top of the hour; it's midnight, and I really should be sleeping. I don't want to move, though.

Masen makes the decision for me, yawning loudly. I laugh and we sit up properly. I stretch my arms up, immediately regretting that thanks to the wave of dizziness that hits me.

When it has passed, I stand up to leave. Masen still hasn't said anything and I don't know what the right thing is to say in this circumstance.

He stands up too, and pulls me into a hug. It takes me by surprise, but I recover quickly, not wanting to lose the opportunity to wrap my arms around him. I press a kiss to his neck, and he shivers a little in response.

I head for the door, tuning back to him before I open it.

"Thanks for this evening, Edward. I had fun."

I sound like a fucking moron. The man has kissed my brain cells away.

He smiles shyly at me.

"Me too. We'll have to do it again tomorrow."

There is a pregnant pause, and I nod, ready to leave, when he speaks again.

"All of it. We'll have to do it all again tomorrow." His eyes are on mine and he's so earnest, so sincere. I can tell he is conflicted, but I'm so glad he's giving it a chance.

"I can get behind that idea. Definitely." Knowing he is okay with what is going on, I press another kiss to his lips. "Goodnight, Edward."

"Night Carlisle. Sweet dreams."

I laugh at his cheesy-ness as I walk away from his suite. I take the stairs back down to my room, because I have ridiculous amounts of energy for this time of night.

As I am unlocking my door, my phone beeps again. I know who it will be.

"_I'm not sure what you're doing to me, and I don't know why I like it. But I do. See you tomorrow. More new things for me then? Edward"_

I debate about how to reply, not sure whether to keep it light or acknowledge what he is saying. I decide to go for total honesty. And he can have the whole of tomorrow to decide what he wants it to mean.

"_I will show you everything you want to know tomorrow. Carlisle"_


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
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**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me.  
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******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
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******This is probably the chapter to point out that this story is M rated for a reason. Yeah. If you're not old enough to read it, don't.  
**

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Masen isn't due in work until ten o'clock the next morning, so I'm able to enjoy a lie in. It's a relief, as last night weighed on my mind when I finally made it back to my room. I'm not sure if I did the right thing by kissing him, or letting him kiss me, however the hell it happened – my memories are quite fuzzy. He was as into it as I was though, and I try to comfort myself with that knowledge. Waiting for him is making me anxious, but I focus on how his lips felt against mine, and try to calm down.

It doesn't really work.

A porter scurries past me to the baggage holding room with Masen's suitcase, and the man himself isn't far behind. He offers me a smile as he walks towards me, his ear glued to his phone. Gesturing to the handset apologetically, his eyes light up as he spots the coffee I have bought for him.

I hand the cup over and head out to the car, making a point of opening his door for him. He thanks me, even while still in the middle of his call, and we set off to start his day.

His phone call doesn't end for the entire journey, but he isn't yelling at anyone so I guess that is something. I have the radio on low, cringing at the weather forecast and dreading the drive to Birmingham this afternoon. Friday rush hour and terrible rain - that will be fun.

Masen slips out of the car with a small wave, and I am left to my own devices for a few hours. I grab some breakfast from a pub, and while away a couple of hours in there, sitting by the window and people-watching.

It's a miserable day, and people are hurrying everywhere. The city is a concrete jungle and everywhere looks grey and unappealing. I feel like I should be doing something with my day, especially after doing absolutely nothing yesterday, but nowhere looks inviting in weather like this.

I decide to pick up the bags from the hotel, where I had left them in case I wanted to drive out of the city during the day – Masen would kill me if I left his belongings in the car, and parked somewhere unsecure. Going anywhere, though, isn't really a possibility. There's only a few hours until I need to pick him up, and we were so busy kissing last night that I forgot to check out places to spend my day.

Not that I'm complaining. My thoughts are full of the kiss and what it might mean to us. I really don't know what to expect from tonight. Masen is still insisting he is straight, which is quite obviously not completely true, and I'm not sure if he needs me to push things, or if he wants to do things at his own pace. I've been letting him control things, but it's getting extremely difficult to not try and gently nudge him into doing something about the persistent erection I get when I'm around him.

Back at the hotel, I grab a coffee from the bar and lose another hour or so to flicking through newspapers and watching the TV in there. I ask about taking some food away, the drive will be difficult this afternoon, and I don't know how long we will be stuck on the road for, despite it technically being the shortest journey we have got.

I charge the food to Masen's account, and the minute I say his name, the staff are falling over themselves to help me. We get a picnic hamper full of food and, just before I leave to pick him up, they offer me a couple of thermos flasks full of coffee. We're more than equipped for whatever this journey throws at us now, and I can't thank the hotel staff enough.

The porter wheels our bags out, and loads them into the boot, while I stash the picnic hamper on the back seat. Otherwise I'll have eaten most of the food before I even make it to Masen.

It turns out to be a good idea, because Masen is once again late out from his meeting and I'm getting impatient and hungry. I'm a little nervous for the journey too, which isn't helping my sanity while I wait. Being stuck in a car with him for two, maybe three, hours after last night... I just don't know what to expect.

He's smiling when he finally exits the building. I get out of the car to open the back door for him and he shakes his head.

"I want to sit up front with you. It's a long journey, right?"

I refrain from telling him he's probably just made it longer by being over half an hour late; I can't see that going down very well. "Yeah, three hours or so I'd say."

Masen nods, "I will keep you company then."

With that, he opens the passenger-side door himself –who knew he could even work car doors on his own without bitching – and climbs in.

I'm not sure who's going to pass me the food when we need it, now, but I don't mention it. I'm quietly excited at Masen declaring his intention to spend the time in the car with me, rather than on his phone or doing work.

We set off, and hit traffic almost immediately. It's four p.m. on a Friday and, as such, the world and his wife are trying to escape the city centre.

Masen does have a couple of phone calls to make, which he apologises for before dialling. I don't know what he's after, but he's being ridiculously sweet this afternoon.

We're on the motorway before his calls end. While I don't understand all the language he's using, it's clear that this trip is going well for him, and I'm glad of that. He is a lot easier to bear when he is in a good mood.

I'd like to think I contributed to that, too.

The motorway is at a complete standstill, as expected. The atmosphere in the car is good though, so I don't find myself getting too annoyed, which is unusual. Masen ends his last phone call, and just when I thought he couldn't be in a better mood, I mention the food to him and his face lights up.

"I'm starving. We only got about ten minutes to eat lunch. And it was crap. What have you bought me?"

I laugh. "Well, you bought it, technically. And I don't know what's in it; they just gave me the hamper."

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he leans through the gap between our seats. It's not graceful in the slightest, but his shirt untucks from his trousers while he does it, and all of a sudden it's one of the hottest things I've seen. We're still not moving, and I have to clamp my fingers around the steering wheel to stop myself from tracing the sliver of skin that has been revealed to me.

He turns back suddenly, catching me looking at him, despite my effort to drag my eyes away from him quickly.

"I found some sandwiches. They look fairly good. You must be hungry, you're practically drooling already." His grin is wicked, and I'm fairly sure this is going to be the tone of the journey.

I'm not complaining.

"Well, I can't help it if everything here is so delicious looking." Masen's face turns a little red, and I chuckle before moving the car forward a few metres.

At this rate we should get to Birmingham by next weekend.

He chooses his sandwich and hands me the other one. I unwrap it as he looks around the car with a slight frown on his face.

"What's up?" I ask.

"I've found a flaw in your drink system."

Here we go.

"If I'm sitting here, I can't get to any water. That's terrible. What if I dehydrate while we're stuck in all this traffic?" Ever the drama queen, although I'm fairly sure he's joking this time; I hope he is, anyway. Glancing at the clock and then at the queues of stationary traffic ahead, I realise he might have a point.

"It's not my fault you felt the need to sit so close to me." I glance at him to make sure he is taking this okay, before continuing with a grin. "If you sat in the back you could have had all the water your heart desires. I could have had access to the stuff under your seat too. If we dehydrate, your poor seat choice is tantamount to murder."

"I try to keep you company and I get accused of murder. I'm not sure that's fair," he grumbles.

This sandwich is smelling way too good to keep on with this argument, so I take a bite and shrug at him. "You'd better hope the salad in this provides me with enough water to sustain me, that's all I'm saying."

Laughing, he unwraps his sandwich and starts to eat, groaning when he realises how good it tastes.

He needs to stop doing that.

We eat in a comfortable silence, the radio chattering away at us. We move forward in the traffic, slowly but surely, but I know we've still got a long way ahead of us.

Eventually, I tell Masen about the thermos flask and, after our sandwiches are devoured, we sit drinking our coffee. I'm going to have to get the car detailed tomorrow, but I can manage that.

"I might have to start telling the Inland Revenue that I use my car as a restaurant, too. We've eaten in here enough times. Maybe that will give me a few more tax breaks."

Masen laughs. "I doubt it."

Me too, sadly.

We start to crawl along more steadily, and I hand my cup to Masen with an apology. He's not here to hold my drinks for me, but the stupid flask cups won't fit into my cup holders, so I don't have much choice.

As we move along, Masen becomes more and more chatty. He asks me about my family, my friends, whether I like my job, what it was like for me growing up. I'm not sure what the point of all the questions is, but I answer them all as best I can.

When there is a pause in the questioning, I know he is building up to something.

"What was it like for you, when you came out?"

There we go. There had to have been a reason for all his questions; Masen doesn't seem to do anything without careful thought. Despite the fact that we have been getting on well the last few days, I doubted he cared that much about my childhood and life.

"It was... okay. A few of my friends didn't want to know me anymore, but they were dickheads anyway. My best friend was a rock, and that really helped. He wasn't freaked out or anything. If anything, he was a little annoyed I didn't really find him attractive."

_Garrett was hilarious when he asked me. We were in a pub, watching the football, and at half time he just came out with it._

"_So, would you want to fuck me then? I mean, if it was a possibility."_

_I swear he waited until I'd just taken a sip of my beer to ask._

_Once I'd recovered from the beer that had been forced out of my nose in shock, I answered him. "Not really, Gar."_

"_Why the hell not? I'm handsome as fuck."_

_Garrett was an attractive guy, I knew that, and he was never short of people to warm his bed when he needed it. But he really wasn't my type._

_I explained all this to him, and he frowned. "I don't know whether to be relieved or to see this as a challenge."_

_Shaking my head at his ridiculousness, I replied, "Just be relieved. I'm not a girl who's going to swoon over your cheesy chat up lines."_

"_My chat up lines aren't cheesy."_

_They are. They're fucking terrible._

I tell this story to Masen, and he laughs. "So he's still your best friend then?"

"Yeah, we've been mates since high school. He doesn't even get freaked out when we wake up in bed together."

I deliberately timed that so Masen _wasn't _drinking when I said it. I don't want coffee all over my dashboard.

"You... you wake up in bed together?"

"Every now and then. Sometimes if we go out and neither of us find someone to go home with... Well, his flat is close to the city centre so we just end up there. I hate sleeping on couches, so I just sleep in his bed. He won't leave his bed, so we just... sleep together. Nothing happens. He's not gay, and I'm not interested in him like that even if he was."

Masen nods, but remains quiet for a while.

The radio drones on about traffic jams and bad weather as the rain pounds down on the car roof. We've been moving at around forty miles per hour for the last few minutes, which is fairly good going given the journey we've had so far. It's nowhere near as fast as I would like to be going, but I'll take it, for now.

"What about your family, how did they take it?"

"Fine. My dad was a bit... standoffish at first, and never asked if I've got a boyfriend like he did about girlfriends, but he was okay. My mum took it well, I think she knew already, and the same for my sister. My nephews have never known anything different, so they're not bothered at all."

I know how fortunate I am to have a supportive family. My parents aren't around anymore, but they remained supportive during their lives, and that's all I could ever ask of them.

Masen is quiet again, but not for quite so long this time.

"Do you often go out and find people to... you know?"

I look over to him, and as suspected, his face is a little red.

"If you can't say the words, you can't do it." I tease.

He glares at me, and I grin back. If I'm here divulging my life story to him, the least he could do is use some dirty words.

"To fuck. Do you find people to fuck?"

Well, I asked for it. I try to ignore the shiver that goes through me at his words, and concentrate on driving and forming a response to his question.

"Not often. There are a couple of people I know quite well, and if we're out together then sometimes we hook up. Sometimes it might be someone I meet that night. It's not every weekend or anything. Just when I feel like it."

Again, it takes Masen a little while to digest what I'm saying to him.

"Do you always... you know...?" I raise an eyebrow at him, and he rolls his eyes in response, adjusting his question. "Do you always fuck?"

I wish I could hear what was going on inside his head.

"No, not always. It's really not the quickest thing in the world, especially with someone you don't know, and sometimes it's too much hassle. There are other ways to scratch the itch. As long as we both have fun, it doesn't really matter to me how we get there."

"So, if we were together, you wouldn't expect..." he pauses. I'm desperate to jump in, because I know what he's asking, but I want him to say the words.

He is turned towards me, his hand on the edge of my seat and I'm willing him to touch my leg, but it remains still.

"You wouldn't expect, like, full on sex." Finally he gets his words out, and my thoughts explode with visions of us together.

Taking a moment to quiet my mind, I move my hand over his, and give it a quick squeeze before returning it to the steering wheel. He flexes his fingers a little, playing with the fabric of my trousers, making it more difficult for me to concentrate on answering him.

"I wouldn't expect anything at all. This is all new to you, it's not even like you've had long to come to terms with being gay –"

"I'm not gay," he insists.

For fuck's sake.

"Okay, whatever. You haven't had long to come to terms with whatever you're feeling, so I'm not about to suggest anything to you. You lead the way. I'm presuming you know the mechanics of sex in general."

He laughs. A lot. "Are you asking if I'm a virgin?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I don't know what I was asking. I just don't want to assume you know what you're doing." Seriously, I don't know what my brain is doing to me right now. I blame his hand, and this conversation.

"I know more than enough," he assures me.

Cocky bastard.

"Well then, we will just see how it goes, won't we? I'm sure you won't have any issues telling me what you want."

His hand has given up teasing, and is now resting on my leg. It's not the leg that has anything to do with the accelerator, and yet it seems to be pushing me into speeding the car up. Fortunately, traffic is moving along well, now. We are maybe ninety minutes away, which is still far too long. But at least we're moving.

He continues to question me intermittently through the rest of the journey. Have I ever had a serious relationship (yes), why did it end (because it turned out he was an asshole), did he meet my family (yes, unfortunately), where do Garrett and I go out if he's trying to pick up girls and I'm trying to pick up guys (wherever we feel like going).

The pauses between the questions are telling; Masen's mind is clearly whirring. I'm not quite sure what he's thinking, but I answer the questions as honestly as I can. There's no point lying about anything; I'm still fairly sure he knows more about me than he seems to, anyway.

Eventually, he seems to relent, relaxing completely in his seat, and watching the world go by. He is so quiet, that I assume he has fallen asleep, until his voice, much quieter this time, pipes up again.

"So when you get guys back to your place, how do you know... I mean, can you just tell whether someone... What do you...?" He trails off, desperately searching for the right words. Despite my earlier plea for him to find his balls and say what he wants to say, I'm sure this conversation is completely unlike any he's ever had before, so I take pity on him.

"Are you asking about topping and bottoming, Edward?" I wouldn't normally call him Edward while we're in the car like this, while he is technically employing me, but this conversation is hardly business.

"Yeah." His reply is more of a squeak, and I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. Considering he is normally so fucking full of attitude, this is crazy.

He looks over at me as I glance in his direction, and gives me a small smile. "Sorry, I don't know all the 'proper' words. I'm worried something I say will be an offensive word and I don't realise it."

I nod. I'm not sure what he's really asking. Does he really want to know if you can tell that about someone, or is he asking what I prefer?

"I don't know. I guess if it's going to get to that point it's usually been mentioned before we even get back to a house. But it all takes time, so it's not something I tend to bother with unless I know the person a bit better."

He's quiet again for a few minutes. I know what the next question will be, and I'm tempted to answer it for him already, but I want to hear his voice.

"What if you haven't talked about it, and then you get back and the guy... doesn't want what you want?"

I _knew_ that was what he really wanted to know.

Dropping my hand down to tease across his fingers a little, I try and figure out how to answer him.

"I guess, well, I don't always have a preference. Sometimes I'd rather top, other times I don't. I'm usually fairly easy going."

He nods, the street lights just highlighting a slight blush on his cheeks. I don't know exactly what he's thinking, but he remains quiet for the rest of the journey.

His hand never leaves my leg.

~-DTD-~

By eight p.m. we're sitting in Masen's suite, eating room service pizza and drinking mini bar beer. I got changed into jeans and a t-shirt after we arrived, signalling my intention not to go anywhere else for the evening.

Masen had agreed with my plan, and done the same. His jeans are a bit smarter than mine, and he still wore a dress shirt, but it was casual for him. He's rolled the sleeves up slightly, and I can't take my eyes off his forearms. I don't think I've ever even noticed anyone's forearms before.

We're watching a film on TV while we eat and drink. It's a terrible film, and while the stuff on TV on a Friday usually isn't too bad, clearly this week is the exception.

Despite eating on the journey, we devour the large pizza and chips between us faster than I thought possible. The beer is washing everything down nicely, and I feel myself relaxing into the sofa. I'm quite sleepy, but I know I need to stay awake. I don't really want to push anything with Masen tonight; he's clearly still very confused, but I get the feeling he was working up to something with all his questions.

He collects up our dishes and places them back onto the room service trolley, pushing it out for someone to collect from the corridor.

When he comes back over, he's got two tumblers of whiskey. He downs his before he even sits down, putting mine on the table for me, next to my beer. He hesitates before taking his seat, and eventually sits so close to me that our legs are touching.

Facing me, his hand comes up to play at the nape of my neck. My eyes close briefly, almost involuntarily, at his touch and I shift a little on the sofa, so I have better access to him.

Before I've even got comfortable, he's pushing me down onto my back. My head is against the arm of the sofa, it's really fucking uncomfortable on my neck, but right now I couldn't care less.

He is surprisingly confident, given the timid way he was asking questions earlier; his hands are underneath my t-shirt before I've even got my bearings, pushing it up. His lips are at my neck, and he seems unwilling to remove them, so my t-shirt stays awkwardly bunched across my chest.

I finally get my head around what's going on, and I slip one of my hands under his shirt, but keep them over the underlying t-shirt. For now.

My other hand works its way lightly over his back and up to his hair. I pull slightly, forcing him to tilt his head up and bring his mouth back to mine.

He groans as our tongues meet, and I can't help but react. I wrap my free leg around his, my hand pushing down on his back as my hips push upwards against his. As soon as I do it, I worry it was too much, but Masen reacts well, grinding back against me. He's as hard as I am and, all of a sudden, these jeans are starting to really piss me off.

We kiss and grind together for what feels like forever. I'm not sure if Masen just isn't sure how to push things further, or if he doesn't want to, but I try to let him take things at his own pace for a while.

It proves rather difficult, though.

"Much as I'm enjoying this, can we take it somewhere a little more comfortable?" My leg has gone dead with his weight on it, and I feel like I'm constantly teetering on the edge of the sofa, about to fall off.

My question is the first coherent noise from either of us in a long time, and it takes him a little while to answer.

"Yeah. Yeah, we can."

He stands, looking a lot more tentative than he has all night, and I take hold of his hand and pull him through to his bedroom.

The bed looks amazing, but I manage to hold back from pushing him back onto it for a while. I need to get his shirt and t-shirt off before we lie down and it turns into a tangle of limbs.

I use the belt loops in his jeans to pull him close to me. We are roughly the same height, he is maybe an inch or so taller, and our hips align in a very pleasant way when we're standing up. I get completely distracted with that knowledge, my hands travelling down to his ass and holding him tight against me. I move a little, needing the friction, and needing him to feel precisely how hard I am getting.

His head is resting in the crook of my neck and I hear a muffled groan as he moves away from me slightly, pulling his shirt off, his t-shirt going soon after, before he tugs impatiently at mine.

Lifting my arms for him, I close my eyes as his fingers trail up my sides slowly, until finally we are both bare-chested. He kisses me, a gentle kiss, as we lie back on the bed.

The bed is just as comfortable as it looks; I'm reluctant to give up lying on it. I end up hovering over Masen, though, and the sight below me is worth the sacrifice.

We're still both in our jeans, a fact I need to change as soon as possible, so as I tease at his neck and jaw with kisses, my hand sneaks over his chest to his waistband. He freezes, and my hand stills. My mouth keeps working - down his neck, along his collarbone, over his chest a little - trying to relax him.

Slowly, I start to move my hand again, along his waistband, never below it. My lips have moved back up to his now, and he is starting to react again. His hands are on my back, holding me close to him, and when I finally run my hands over his jeans, his nails dig into my skin. I leave my hand where it is, just gently teasing his hard cock, letting him get his head around the fact that he is enjoying this.

He finally starts to grind back against my hand, and I move up to the button of his jeans immediately. I want him to feel the loss, and be keen for me to get his trousers off as fast as possible. I need him to be desperate for me.

I sit back, unfastening the button fly on his jeans and pulling them off. I undo my own while I'm at it, kicking them off the end of the bed before lying back down next to him.

He rolls to his side, and we lose a little of our urgency as we kiss. My hips are rolling against his gently, but I need to get him used to everything, again. By this point, my cock is screaming for some relief, but I am hoping the pay off will be worth it.

Masen stays fairly still, his hands don't wander past my biceps, but he seems relaxed enough as my hands start to wander over his body again.

I end up above him again, kissing my way down his chest. His breathing is heavy, but he doesn't stop me when I finally reach his boxers. I skip over the fabric, heading further down to tease at his thighs, kissing along the point where fabric meets skin until he is begging.

"Fuck, Carlisle, please." He finally groans out his words and I know he's ready.

I drop a kiss onto his cock, over the fabric, before slowly but surely pulling his boxers off.

He's so hard, and so beautiful.

I kiss my way back up his legs, before quickly taking his cock into my mouth. I'm in no mood for drawing out the suspense now that we've got here; I've been waiting for this for a long time.

One of his hands goes straight into my hair, guiding my movements firmly. He definitely knows what he wants.

I escape his grip briefly, moving off him and taking some time to tease his cock with my tongue. I take the opportunity to glance up at him. His face is flushed, his hair is all over the place and his other arm thrown over his eyes. He looks absolutely fuckable, but I know he's not ready for that yet.

"More. I need more. Fuck." He moans, clearly frustrated with the lack of friction.

Taking him back into my mouth, I start to work in earnest to make him come. My hand is teasing his balls, while his hand is back in my hair and keeping me at the pace he wants.

He is writhing beneath me, and I know he can't be far off. I can't make out what he's saying, but he's murmuring constantly.

Despite all his chatting, I don't get any sort of warning before he comes. As my mouth is filled, he groans out loud, his hand releasing its tight grip on my hair.

I release him, finally, kissing my way back up his body to rest in his loose grip.

We lie in silence for a few minutes while he gets his breath back, and while I try not to grind my erection into his hip.

Eventually, he leans over and kisses me deeply, his tongue explores my mouth and he groans – presumably he can taste himself on me.

I don't manage to keep still.

He pulls back. "I don't think... I'm not there yet..."

My head drops back on the pillow, unable to hide my frustration.

"But maybe you could take care of it here," he continues.

I frown at him as he rolls out of bed, his limbs not fully cooperative yet, and heads to his suitcase.

He comes back with a bottle of lube.

A part-empty bottle of lube.

I laugh. "Did you bring that with you? Aren't there rules about liquids on aeroplanes?"

He is embarrassed, but answers my question. I'm happy that post-orgasmic Masen hasn't freaked out on me.

"I had to run out at lunchtime on the second day in Edinburgh. I was quite glad you were up a hill; I was worried I was going to bump into you. I couldn't imagine having to explain buying lube to you."

"I know what it's used for."

"You know what I mean. I just didn't want to crash into you in the shop, unprepared and have to explain it away."

"What would I have been buying?" Why I am entertaining this conversation and not grabbing the lube and finally, finally, doing something about this erection, I don't know.

His answer makes me smile. "Headache tablets?"

"Do people who are around you often need headache tablets?"

"Yeah. That or earplugs."

Post-orgasmic Masen is fun.

"How did you know where to look for it here, anyway? I can't imagine you do much shopping when you're over."

"Google."

"Wait, you googled lube?"

"Yeah, in a meeting that morning. It was an interesting experience. I was glad the sound on my laptop was turned down, let's put it that way."

He's a fucking idiot.

I take the bottle, and kick my boxers off while pouring some lube into my hand.

Masen is quiet. I look over and see that he's staring at my cock. Might as well give him a bit of a show.

Groaning as I finally grip my cock and get a little bit of relief, I start to work myself. I keep it slow, though, desperate as I am to come. Masen's hand is trailing over my chest, zigzagging its way down, and I want to give him the chance to help out if he wants.

"Can I help? Just over your hand?" He asks me, finally.

I nod, unable to form any coherent sentences at this moment in time.

His hand rests over mine, just lightly, as I move it up and down my cock. I keep a steady rhythm, I am dying for him to touch me and I start to spread my fingers a little in the hope his fingers will fill in the gaps.

They do.

"Fuck," he whispers.

It's my turn to beg now. "Edward, please. You do it. _Please._"

"I don't know what to do."

Jesus fucking Christ, man.

"Just do what you'd do to yourself, but on me."

It takes a few seconds, but he nods, and I pull my hand back with a groan.

He takes over, and I pull his head down to mine so I can kiss him.

"Fuck. So good," I whisper against his lips. It really is. His hand feels like magic, there's no way I'm going to last very long.

I start to thrust my hips to meet him, and he groans into my mouth.

"You're so hard," he marvels.

I'd laugh, but it's not really an appropriate time.

"It's you... fuck, Edward. You make me like this. All the damn time."

His hand tightens around me, and I'm done.

He's gone before I've even come down from the high, and I'm worried he's freaked out. I guess it's one thing when you're in the moment, but then the reality hits when you've got a man coming because of what you're doing to him.

I shouldn't have worried, though.

He reappears with a washcloth and hands it to me.

"I know you're a bit funny about mess."

Fuck, he's so cute.

I clean myself up, taking the washcloth back into the bathroom and rinsing it, before throwing it into the laundry.

It takes me a minute, when I'm back in the bedroom, to find my boxers, but I finally do, and pull them on.

"Where are you going?" Masen is in bed, under the covers.

I hesitate. I'd assumed he would want me to leave now, but maybe that's not the case.

"I don't know. I was just feeling a bit... exposed."

He nods, and I sit at the end of the bed, waiting.

"Will you stay?"

His voice is quiet, but I heard the question, and I'm not about to torture him making him ask again. He's probably feeling pretty vulnerable right now.

There's also no way I'm passing up a night in that bed.

"Are you sure?"

He nods.

"Okay."

I climb in next to him, setting an alarm for the morning on my phone, before lying down.

We don't cuddle up, but he is close enough to me that I can feel the heat of his body on mine.

I'm drifting off when I feel a kiss pressed to my shoulder, and an arm sneak around my waist.

"Thank you, Carlisle."

I turn over carefully, making sure his arm stays in place, as my hand runs up his bicep. I press a kiss to his lips, holding us there for a few moments before moving back a little, giving him room to breathe.

"Goodnight, Edward."

* * *

**Now for the bad news... **

**It'll be two weeks until the next update. I'm away next weekend, so the next update will be on November 25th. I hope that BD2 has enough Carlward action to tide everyone over until then ;)  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Slightly early posting. I have to make an uplanned trip tomorrow, so I wasn't sure when I'd get a chance to update. Sunday remains the regular day I post.  
**

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. I've been messing around with this chapter all day, though, so if anything reads strangely - it's on me.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

My alarm blares out and I groan.

It's not too dark, but it still feels like the middle of the night – it is Saturday after all. No one should have to set an alarm on a Saturday.

As I reach over to stop the noise, a hand tightens around my waist.

I wriggle a little, and manage to grab my phone and shut it off. Seven o'clock in the fucking morning on a weekend should be illegal.

Masen... _Edward_ pulls me back into his arms as soon as the screeching stops. His chest is pressed against my back, it's warm and inviting – as if I needed any more reasons to not want to get out of bed. I wasn't expecting him to be cuddly this morning – he's never struck me as a cuddler before. Mind you, what do I know about him? Clearly not much.

Except that he's apparently not gay.

His erection pressing into my ass would tend to suggest otherwise, if last night wasn't enough.

I try to figure out from his breathing if he's awake or drifting back to sleep. I'm not a doctor, however, nor do I usually hang round long enough to discover whether someone is a cuddler, so I don't really have much to go on.

In the end, I flip over, unable to take the silence much longer.

He's awake.

His arm still rests slightly above my waist. My hand trails over his chest, fingers tracing over his back until he's in my arms, too.

"Hi."

A blush appears with that one word, and it makes me smile. I drop a kiss onto his forehead and pull back.

"Good morning. You okay?" I have to know. Everything is suggesting that he's fine with what happened, but I'm still worried.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I don't want to get out of bed and go to work, though. That's not like me. What have you done to me?"

I laugh; I'm pretty sure I've had nothing to do with what's happened this week.

"I don't particularly want to get up either, we better had though. I need to go back to my room and get dressed." I really do. My stuff will be all crumpled having sat in my suitcase all night, too. I wasn't expecting to sleep here. At least my suit is hanging up.

Edward's fingers splay out a little on my back, his pinky brushing against the waistband of my boxers. It's such a small touch, but it makes me groan and push my hips into his.

We don't have time to finish anything this morning, but it doesn't stop Edward from rolling me onto my back. He buries his face into my neck, his breath hot against me. Slowly, he rolls his hips against mine, making me rapidly forget what we should be doing.

If you can't beat them, join them, I guess.

I wrap my legs around him, making him press against me completely. It's his turn to groan, and his lips and teeth start teasing at my neck. One of his hands is tracing up and down my side – he is clearly trying to get used to the differences in having a man underneath him as opposed to a woman. His fingers rake over my chest, teasing until he reaches my nipple and I arch up under him.

His teeth are scraping against my shoulder, and I'm beginning to wonder exactly how important his meetings are today, when my second alarm goes off.

Edward groans and rolls off me, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

"I guess that's our signal to stop."

I disagree, but I reckon Edward might freak out about this later; I don't want him being late for work to add to the confusion.

He stays lying down as I roll off the bed. My jeans are crumpled on the floor, and I cringe a little as I pick them up and pull them on. God knows what state my t-shirt will be in.

"Sorry, I should have picked them up when I got up overnight. I didn't think."

Holy shit. I can't imagine Masen picking up after anyone. I'm not sure what's going on. I hope I haven't ruined him forever. Imagine he goes into his meeting and just capitulates. He might have to start a chip butty business after all.

I look over at him, and he's sitting up in bed watching me. I try to tear my gaze away from his chest long enough to give him a coherent answer. Unfortunately my eyes only move as far as his face, which is just as distracting.

Eventually, I manage to answer him, as I walk around the bed until I find my t-shirt. "It's okay. I should have done it myself, but I was a bit distracted last night."

I shoot him a grin, pleased to see a little pink colour in his cheeks.

Pulling my t-shirt on, I bend down to kiss Edward on the cheek before I leave. His hand immediately goes to my hair, and he turns to kiss me properly.

"Can we rain check on that? Morning breath." I hate the thought of kissing anyone with my mouth feeling like it does. It's not a problem I often have, to be honest.

He nods. "I'll meet you at your room at eight o'clock? We can go and eat breakfast together, if you want?"

I'm not about to disagree with that plan, and I rush down to my room to get ready.

Eight o'clock on the dot and Edward is at my door. His hair is tamed a little, and, sadly, he has shaved. He glances down the corridor before stepping into my room, and I take a minute to admire exactly how good he looks when he's dressed up for business. His suit fits him perfectly, and I am desperate to use his tie to pull him towards me. Maybe if I keep my hands there, I can resist messing up his hair.

He beats me to it, though, pushing me up against the wall by my door. His hands hold mine against the wall, and I struggle against him for a second, not really used to anyone trying to control me like that.

"Don't you want me to kiss you?" He's so fucking cocky, he knows I do.

I nod, but apparently that's not enough.

"Tell me what you want. Ask me." He raises an eyebrow at me, a smirk on his face. I resist the urge to tell him to shove his kisses.

I try once more to get my hands out from under his, but he's stronger than me as he leans his weight against me.

I give in.

"Kiss me, you cocky bastard."

He laughs, and leans in, brushing his lips against mine. He tastes like mint and I can't help thinking that this was definitely worth waiting for. All of a sudden I don't care that I can't move my hands, I don't care that he made me ask for it, because, fuck, his kisses are amazing.

Finally he releases my hands, and they immediately go to his hair. He groans as I tug on it, and deepens our kiss. His hands are under my undone jacket, and his fingers hook into my belt loops pulling me closer to him.

We grind together long enough that neither of us want to break apart, but his stomach rumbles, and he pulls back slightly, laughing.

"Sorry. I'm kinda hungry."

"I'd never have guessed," I tease him. I'm hungry, too.

We take a few minutes to calm down a little, before heading downstairs to eat. Edward orders a full English breakfast without any prompting from me. I get the same.

He is hopeful that his day won't be a long one, meaning we will make it back to London in decent time. His day doesn't end when we get there, like mine does, though. There are celebratory drinks for the business he's done while he's been here.

"Do you want to come, too?"

I nearly choke on my bacon.

"What?"

"You could come with me. Everyone there will be uptight; it'd be good to have you there with me."

Fuck me, he's cute.

"I'm not sure it's my scene to be honest." I glance around to check no one is close enough to hear me before adding, "I'm not sure I'd be able to keep my hands off you, either."

Edward's eyes dart round the room, before he grins at me. "I guess I am pretty irresistible, it's true."

"And arrogant," I add.

He's still smiling, thank God. "Eh, maybe. I have a fairly good reason to be though, I think you'd agree."

I shovel some more food into my mouth, and gesture to it so I don't have to answer. I can't feed his ego any more.

Edward's smile is so bright; clearly getting some does wonders for his mood.

We chat some more about our plans for the day – I don't really have any – and Edward seems desperate to get out of work as soon as possible. I'm hopeful we'll be back in London by six o'clock, giving him time to chill out a bit before he goes out, and giving me time to do some food shopping before going back to my flat.

Grabbing some coffees to go, we head out to the car and I drive him to his meeting. We've slipped back into our roles now; he is in the back of the car, I'm opening doors for him and generally being polite to him.

I drop him off and head back to the hotel. City centres on a weekend is not anywhere I want to be.

Our rooms are booked until the afternoon, so I spend my day watching the football whilst lying on my bed. If only I could drink, it would be perfect.

I manage to nap for an hour or so too, which is good. I was up late last night with Edward, and I'm not in peak condition to drive this evening without a sleep.

Once again, my phone beeping brings me out of my rest. It's Edward.

"_We'll be done by three o'clock. Bring my bags and we can just get going."_

Okay then.

There's only an hour or so to go before I have to get him. I take a quick shower, feeling grimy after my sleep, and then head down to load our bags up.

I debate about getting food, but we'll be back in London before it's time to eat – I'm hoping the roads will be quiet as the bulk of the football is played at three o'clock. In the end, I set off early, and grab some snacks from a small shop, but nothing too fancy.

Edward is waiting for me when I pull up outside the building, and he glances round before jumping into the passenger seat. I didn't even get a chance to get out of the car.

We're out of the city quickly, and Edward has munched through most of the snacks before we're even on the motorway.

"I skipped lunch so we could leave early. Sue me."

"Alright, just save me an Aero. I'm hungry, too." I fucking love Aeros.

He has both Aero bars in his hands as I speak, and he looks between me and the chocolate a couple of times before reluctantly placing one back in the glove compartment.

As he finishes off every other piece of food I bought, he makes me tell him about some of the decent places for a night out, and continues to ask me to meet up with him while he's out.

"You could bring your friend with you, Garrett is it?"

I laugh. "Yeah, Garrett. I'm not sure your work colleagues would appreciate seeing him attempting to talk girls into bed."

Edward snorts. "I'm fairly sure some of them would be asking him for tips."

We settle into silence, as the radio drones in the background. Edward fiddles on his phone, and I consider his offer. Going out with him would be fun, but he will be with work people. I'm assuming he's not about to step out of the closet tonight – as far as I know he's still pretty sure he's not in the closet to begin with. Added to which, we have spent seven days in a row together; I could do with a break. Much as I like Edward, he is hard work. He's also still my boss, for all intents and purposes, until he leaves tomorrow.

I'm fairly sure he could do with the time away to sort his head out a little, too.

So it is with great reluctance I drop him off at his hotel in London. I can't even help him with his bags and give him a goodbye kiss, thanks to an over eager porter. So we settle for a "see you tomorrow," and I drive home, via a supermarket.

I call Garrett when I get in, and he teases me mercilessly about my crush on Edward.

"So he's your boss? And you fucked him?"

I'm balancing my phone on my shoulder while trying to put some food in the oven for myself.

"Wow, Gar, you've got the whole story wrong. Well done. He's not my boss, and we didn't fuck."

"He's as good as your boss, or he was for the week. I guess I can admit what you did wasn't as good as a fuck though."

"What we did was more than good enough." Way more than good enough. I eat the last of my Aero and start rummaging in the fridge.

"Whatever. So what are you going to do now? Maybe we should crash his night out; you said he wanted us there."

"You just want to see him." I know his games. He wants to suss Edward out for himself, try and scare him off a little. He's not above pretending to fight for my affections if he thinks someone isn't worthy of me. I've told him all about Edward's dickhead behaviour over the last few months, and he's convinced that I'm being played.

It's something I've worried about myself, especially considering Edward is so convinced he is straight, but there's not much I can do about it.

"Maybe I do. If he's as hot as you say he is, maybe I'll steal him off you."

I laugh. "You can be 'not gay' together."

"Exactly. I'm sure I can find a closet somewhere that's big enough for us to have sex in."

I roll my eyes, cracking open a beer and slumping onto my couch.

"Well as long as it's got a video camera so I can watch, you can do what you want."

Garrett snorts. He's such a gent. "I knew you wanted me, Carlisle. You can't resist me forever, you know."

"You're the straight one, not me. You're the one holding back our love."

"We wouldn't last ten minutes in a relationship and you know it. You'd get all OCD freak on me and I would end up killing you messily and burying you in a ditch. A really dirty ditch. In unwashed clothes."

"Fuck off." He's right though. He's gross and messy – especially around me because he knows how much it annoys me. It'd end up in someone's murder, although I think I'm quicker than he is, so I reckon I'd get there first.

"You know, Garrett, sometimes I wonder why we're even friends."

"It's because you're unassuming and gay, so girls flock to you. You get them all relaxed and then I swoop in, sweep them off their feet and show them the time of their lives. For a night."

His description is startlingly accurate. "Wait, so what do I get out of this friendship?"

There's not even a hesitation before he replies, "I listen to your whiny ass when you've got a teenage crush on a dickhead."

"He's not a dickhead," I grumble, picking at some fluff on my sofa.

"You keep telling yourself that, mate. I've got to go anyway. My supposed best friend won't come out for a night out with me - even though he's been away for a week – so I need to go and find someone who will."

Guilt trips never work on me, especially when he's got a whole phone book full of friends who would be more than willing.

"I'll see you next week, Gar. Have a good night."

"Bye, deserter." With that, he ends the call.

He's a fool, but he's a good friend. I'm lucky to have him. We usually see each other a couple of times a week, so this has been a weird one for us. He's the same as ever, though, and I'm looking forward to seeing him during the week.

I flick through the TV channels until my pasta and garlic bread is ready. I figure if I eat garlic I won't be tempted to go out and find Edward, wherever he is.

Finally, I come across a decent film to watch while I eat. I don't normally eat in front of the TV, but I've been sitting at tables all week to eat. Sitting on the couch is just too tempting.

My phone beeps, and I pick it up, assuming it's Garrett sending me some more abuse.

It's not.

"_Celebrating with work colleagues isn't as fun as celebrating with you."_

Oh, Edward. I leave it a few minutes to reply. I don't want him to think I'm sitting in and waiting for his texts.

After I've washed up my dishes and grabbed another beer, I reply.

"_Eating food and watching TV isn't as fun as it is with you, but those are the crosses we must bear. Just cry off early saying you're tired."_

He texts back immediately. His work colleagues must think he's really rude.

"_I might do that. I can't stop thinking about you."_

I don't even pretend to be cool this time.

"_That's because I'm awesome."_

I'm not sure what he wants me to say, really. Does he want me to apologise for being in his thoughts?

Ignoring my phone for a while, I throw my clothes from the week into the wash, needing to concentrate on something other than him for a while.

Once I start, I can't stop. I make my bed with fresh sheets and clean the kitchen up of the mess I caused while cooking, and from the week's worth of dust that's accumulated while I've been away.

The film I was watching is over by the time I return to the couch, feeling a little more relaxed now that some of the chores are done around the house. I resist picking my phone up immediately, and try to find something else to watch. There's not much on, but I settle on a hospital drama. It's mindless viewing, which is exactly what I need.

I pick my phone up, finally, and there are three messages from Edward waiting for me.

"_Awesomely arrogant, clearly."_

I frown, flicking down to read his next message.

"_That was a joke. Text messages need a 'joke' font."_

Shaking my head, I look at his last text, which only arrived a few minutes ago.

"_We're in a club. I keep wondering what it would be like to dance with you."_

I can't imagine they're in a club that I would normally dance in. Having said that, the idea of dancing with Edward is very tempting, no matter where it is.

"_I didn't have you pegged as a dancer."_

His reply is fast, again.

"_I'm not, but you seem to have a way of making me want to try new things."_

Well, that's true I guess.

"_Well, how about you try being nice and talking to your colleagues while you're out? Don't they think you're really rude?"_

"_I don't care what they think of me."_

Why doesn't that surprise me? I don't reply; he really needs to be more sociable with the people he's out with.

Lying back on the couch, I listen to Casualty droning in the background, my eyes closing. The beers, coupled with a busy week have tired me out, and I decide that it's probably time to head to bed. Sleeping on the couch isn't an attractive prospect, and it won't be long before I crash out.

I jump in the shower before climbing into bed, washing the grime of the evening off me. I pick up my phone and there is another message from Edward waiting.

"_I don't think I've ever spent a week with someone and still wanted to see them at the end of it."_

Join the club.

I decide to reply, flicking on the TV in my room for a while.

"_Me neither, to be honest."_

He's getting more angsty, I think. His next text is... weird.

"_What the fuck are we doing to each other?"_

Not sure how to reply, I finally decide on humour and ending the conversation.

"_We're obviously just so hot we can't resist each other. I'm going to sleep now; I've been worked hard by a slave driver all week. Have a good night, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."_

I put my phone on silent, set my alarm, and lie it face down on my bedside table.

Despite my mind whirring, sleep comes easily. I really am exhausted.

~-DTD-~

When I wake in the morning, there are a few messages waiting for me. Mainly drunken nonsense from Edward. He does seem to be freaking out a little about what went on while we were away. I was expecting it, but part of me regrets not going out last night. At least then we wouldn't have to face each other straight away.

I drag myself out of bed. I'm not picking Edward up until one o'clock, but I was hoping to pop into my sister's house on the way.

By the time I have showered and feel awake enough to face people, though, there's not really any point. By the time I got there, I would have to leave. The kids never let me go with any degree of speed, so it's not worth causing the hassle.

I decide to text Edward first though, it's late enough in the morning that he should be out of bed by now.

"_Hope that you had a good night last night. Looking forward to hearing about it today. See you soon."_

He doesn't reply.

I take the car to the petrol station to fill up, and stop at a car wash on the way back to my flat. It makes me feel better, knowing the car is ready for this journey, because I'm not sure I am.

There is only an hour or so before I need to leave, so I jump in the shower again, before making myself a quick bite to eat. I rearrange visiting my sister while I eat. I was hoping to put it off until later in the week, but she texts me with a guilt trip, so I make it that evening.

"_The boys have missed their uncle. They even made you welcome home cards. – Esme"_

She knows exactly how to play me.

I need to get what I can out of this, and Esme makes really good food.

"_Cook for me and you've got a deal."_

Noticing the time, I make sure my suit looks okay before heading out to meet Edward. I'm a few minutes early when I get to the hotel, but I'd rather be early than late.

I fiddle with the radio for a while, trying to find a classical music station – something that we both enjoy, and that means we can talk without much interruption. We have a lot to get through before we reach the airport.

A porter walks out of the hotel, pushing a trolley with Edward's bags on it, and I jump out of the car to help move them into the boot. I can see Edward checking out at the reception desk, and I can't help but be excited at the prospect of seeing him.

Once the bags are placed in the boot neatly, I wait by the passenger side of the car. I'm not sure where Edward will want to sit, so I stand between the passenger and back door, so that I can open either for him.

He strides out of the hotel, finally, and I shoot him a grin. His eyes meet mine briefly, but there is no real acknowledgement. Maybe he's keeping things professional while we're still in public.

That hope is shattered, as Edward turns slightly before he gets to the car, reaching his hand back towards the hotel.

A woman takes it, and giggles, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Edward looks at me and then at the back door of the car, pointedly. I suck in a deep breath and open the door and they both climb in.

She has neat blonde hair and perfect makeup, and I'm pretty sure she is wearing clothes more appropriate to a Saturday night than a Sunday morning. I want to fucking throw up.

I walk round to my seat in a daze. She is sitting on his fucking lap and kissing his neck – the neck I had my lips on yesterday – and his hand is stroking the side of one of her breasts.

"I can't drive if you're both not seatbelted in." I'm not even sure how I find my voice. I don't want to speak; I just want to drive, and then I want to go home and get drunk enough that I forget this week ever happened.

She giggles and scoots over, Edward swats her on the ass as she moves, and I just about resist the urge to smash my head against the steering wheel repeatedly.

Once she's strapped in, we set off, and Edward speaks.

"Can you drop Lauren off in, erm...?"

He trails off and Lauren giggles, again, and finishes, "Kingston."

No.

"Yes."

It's not on the way at all. But we have plenty of time, and at least it means I don't have to watch their sickening display all the way to Heathrow.

"Are you sure that's okay?" Lauren's voice is grating on my last nerve. I don't reply, so Edw... _Masen _does it for me.

"He works for me; he does what I tell him."

My eyes shoot to his in the mirror, but he looks away immediately. Dickhead.

Garrett is going to have an absolute field day with this.

They're vocal in the back. His hands are all over her and she keeps fucking giggling. From what I can figure out, they met last night and Masen took her back to his hotel room. Clearly the party went on well into this morning.

Finally we're in Kingston, and she stops giggling long enough to give me directions to her house.

We pull up outside, and I can see Masen relaxing. He's such a fucking idiot.

"Now you know where I live for next time you're over," Lauren points out to him.

I just about manage to stop myself laughing out loud. I'm fairly sure Masen has hit the limit of his acting skills, and he just nods, pressing a swift kiss on her cheek as she disappears.

His head rests against the back of his seat as he shuts his eyes. We set off again, and I switch the radio to a classic rock station and turn it up. I don't want him to have the opportunity to speak to me, I don't care how fucking unprofessional it is.

Black Sabbath pours out of the speakers as I tear down the motorway. Masen is engrossed in his phone, and all I can think is that I need to get him to the airport as quickly as possible. I don't even want to see his face right now.

I know exactly what he's doing, but I don't care. He's a grown man; he should be too old for these games.

This is exactly the reason I hate relationships; they're full of games and ridiculousness.

We pull up at the airport, and I swing round into a parking bay, jumping out of the car immediately to get a trolley for his bags.

Masen is by the boot when I get back, but he lets me unload all his stuff for him. He doesn't speak until he turns to leave.

"You said it yourself, Carlisle. Different was the game of the week. Well now it's time to get back to normality."

I just shake my head. He's so in denial.

"Have a safe trip home, Mr. Masen."

Adressing him so formally seems to change something in him, and he turns back to face me. Drawing in a deep breath, he lifts up his hand as if he wants to touch me, but I step back.

I don't fucking think so.

"Not after you've had your hands all over Lauren. Thanks anyway."

He breathes out a laugh, his eyes fixed on a point off to the side of me.

"I didn't mean to... I mean... I just don't know what I think any more. I don't know what to do."

I shake my head. "You need to figure this one out on your own."

His eyes are everywhere except meeting mine, and I check the time on my phone.

"You're going to be late for check-in."

Nodding, he swings the trolley round to start pushing it towards the airport. It makes a grating sound against the uneven surface and I cringe a little.

Before he leaves, he turns back to look at me. "Thank you, for this week."

I acknowledge his statement with a nod, but don't say any more. I'm really, really pissed off at him. I'm also really pissed off at myself.

He heads off towards the doors, his shoulders slumped, his entire posture that of a defeated man.

Once he has finally disappeared from my sight, I move back to sit in the car. I don't even bother to start the engine, deciding to deal with the more important things first. I text Esme to cancel our plans for this evening, and then text Garrett to make some.

Tonight is going to need alcohol, and lots of it.

* * *

**Eeeeeeeeeeeeep. Sorry. Back on track now so the next update will be next Sunday. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Another early post! I wasn't sure when/if I'd be online tomorrow, thanks to an incident where I live - so rather than leave you all hanging, I thought I'd update now. Sunday does remain the usual day (honest).  
**

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts. We're nearly at 200 reviews which is amazing, and totally unexpected. So thank you all!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Edward Masen**_

_Carlisle,_

_Please._

_Edward._

_._

The man has emailed me pretty much every day for the last week. I haven't replied to any of them yet. I really don't know what to say. On top of everything else, he's in America, and I'm here. So it's not like anything could ever happen between us.

It's been a couple of weeks since our week away, and I'm still not quite sure what to make of everything.

My reaction to it is fucking ridiculous, for starters. I think I'm more annoyed at myself than I am at him. I _knew _it wasn't going to end well, and yet I let myself get carried away with the whole thing. I hate that I let him work his way into my head.

Garrett managed to wait for at least two days before reminding me that he had warned me it would happen. Fucker.

I had a meeting with Tanya on the Monday, which I managed to drag my hungover-self to. She was fine, though. She was happy that Masen was happy. Clearly he hadn't said anything to her about what had gone on, and for that I was grateful. She was willing to give me a few days off, to make up for the long assignment, but I wanted to work, I needed to keep busy.

Any time I wasn't working was filled with either Garrett – with or without alcohol – or visiting the kids. Esme was seriously pissed off that I had bailed on her Sunday night meal, and I've now been guilt-tripped into looking after the kids for their Easter holiday.

Most of my work is first thing in the morning or later at night, so Esme and I work around each other. It means neither of us have to take too much time off work.

My time with the kids is always good, even if they do exhaust me. Jared is nine, and at least he will sit down with a book and amuse himself. Seth, on the other hand, is still six, and while he's happy to watch a film, he needs entertaining the rest of the time.

We spend loads of time at museums and galleries. Jared is doing a holiday project on space, so we make sure a lot of what we do is geared towards that. I even take him stargazing one evening. It's not easy in London, but we see a few.

I've been so busy that even when I start receiving emails from Masen, I don't have time to reply. Not that I know what to say to him anyway.

He started off asking if he could explain. He wants to call me, and has been asking when I'm free to answer his call. My first reaction was to think he must be serious if he's willing to pay international call rates. Then I realised he throws money around like it's nothing, and I didn't feel so bad for not getting back to him. The messages became demanding after a while, he's obviously used to getting his own way. I ignored those, too.

His emails are getting more and more desperate, though. I don't really have any claim on him, and so I don't have a reason to be quite so annoyed at him.

I grab my phone to email him back to arrange a time for him to call me, and there is an email waiting for me.

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LHR 12:00, Saturday 17__th__ April. Meet at arrivals. Name "Masen." Drop off at 45 Park Lane._

_._

Oh, for fuck's sake.

~-DTD-~

April 17th comes around far too quickly for my liking.

Before I know it, I am standing at the arrivals gate with a trolley and a takeaway coffee – the trolley for his luggage and the coffee is for me.

I'm fairly sure Masen will be arriving on his own; we're usually informed if there will be more than one passenger. I haven't quite made up my mind whether that's a good or bad thing. Another person would provide a bit of a buffer, but it might also make it more awkward. At least if it's just me and Masen, everything that happened is out there, and we don't have to worry about keeping it quiet.

I tap out a constant rhythm on the handle of the trolley with my free hand. It's obviously pissing everyone else around me off, but I don't care. I need to expend my nervous energy somehow, and I'm sure they'd rather the incessant tapping, than me running up and down the arrivals hall.

Whenever I'm waiting for clients, it feels like their flights take forever to land, and then they spend ages getting through immigration and baggage claim. Especially Masen when he's alone.

Not this time.

He strides through the doors, spotting me immediately. He's not quite as confident as usual; the smile he gives me is shy. His hair seems wilder than usual, it definitely needs a cut. As he gets closer to me, I can see how tired his eyes look.

I'm a fucking idiot. He's just had a ten hour flight; he's probably just jet-lagged.

We don't talk as he hefts his bags onto the trolley – he only has a couple, it's not like him – and our silence continues as we walk to the car. I'm not about to make the first move, so I let the silence drag out as we get into the car.

Masen climbs into the back, helping himself to a bottle of water, with a grateful smile at me in the mirror.

"I was hoping you still did this, the coffee was terrible on the flight."

When is anything ever up to his standards?

"It's only been four weeks; I haven't changed drastically in that space of time," I remind him.

He is quiet in response, concentrating on fastening his seatbelt instead. I wonder if he's changed drastically in the last four weeks.

We set off, the radio is playing louder than I would normally have it, but it's quiet enough that he can speak to me, if he wants to.

He stays quiet.

My heart is thumping like crazy, it's fucking ridiculous that he has any effect on me at all. Every time I glance in the mirror – to check the traffic behind me, nothing else... sort of – his green eyes are staring back at mine.

He still says nothing.

The journey takes the best part of an hour, and I'm surprised my heart doesn't give out; the tension in the car is almost unbearable. It's not until we're pulling up outside the hotel that he finally speaks.

"Have you got a client after this?"

I shake my head slowly. I can see where this is going already; part of me is intrigued as to what he wants to say, and the other part just wants to drop him off, put my right foot down, and get the hell out of here.

"Can you come up to my suite? We need to talk. Please?" He sounds completely broken, but I'm still not sure what to do for the best.

"Is that a good idea?" It really isn't a good idea. I don't know why I even asked.

"Well how else am I going to get you to speak to me? I've tried emailing you, and asking if I can call you. I don't know what else to do."

"I'm not sure –" I trail off.

"You don't have anyone else booked in. I could just book you for the weekend or something and reserve a hotel in Scotland. You'd have to talk to me then."

I spin round to face him, seeing red at his ridiculous idea.

"I'm not a whore. You can't just book me and use me however you please. It doesn't work like that."

He blanches at my statement.

"I didn't mean... fucking hell. I don't think you're a whore, Carlisle."

The doorman of the hotel chooses that moment to open Masen's door, obviously fed up of waiting for me to do it. Of course, it has to be the guy I fucking wave to, doesn't it? Guess he knows my name now. To his credit, he doesn't show a trace of emotion at what he just heard.

"Please?" Masen asks one last time. I know if I say no now, he won't push it. Not with other people around. He's right, though. We need to talk this one through.

"Okay. Just let me park the car."

He nods, "I'll wait for you in the lobby."

Once his bags are unloaded, I swing the car round to the car park. I don't know if I've done the right thing by agreeing, especially since we're going to be in his hotel room. It's not really a conversation for a public place, though. At least he books suites to stay in, so it's not like we will have to sit on the bed to argue it out.

I consider texting Garrett to get him on standby to phone me, in case I need a quick out from Masen's room. I decide against it, though. I can't complain Masen is being childish and then do that.

Unfortunately.

I step into the lobby and Masen is waiting there with a very uncomfortable-looking porter.

Taking a deep breath, I meet them. Here goes nothing.

~-DTD-~

"How was I supposed to know what you wanted from me? You said yourself you have one night stands, no relationships. I had no fucking idea where I stood with you."

We've been arguing over this for a good half-hour now; going over what happened without really talking about how it made us feel. I've been deliberately winding Masen up to try and get a bit more out of him. It's obviously worked. His last statement makes me pause in my tracks though; I never thought for a minute he wouldn't realise that this felt like more to me.

"Like what we had was just a one night thing, nothing more to it? Like we didn't hang out every evening? Like you weren't fucking texting me telling me you missed me _the same night _you decided you were straight after all? No one night stand I've ever had has felt the need to flaunt their next conquest in front of me the fucking day after."

I draw in a deep breath, ready to continue with my rant, but Masen jumps in.

"I'm sorry about that, I really am. I just freaked out."

His apology softens me a little. I'm still pissed off at him, though.

"So talk to me. Ask me how it felt when I realised I was gay. Tell me how you're fucking feeling. Don't go off and find a woman and try and fuck it out of your system. And definitely don't then parade the woman in front of me." I run my hand over my face. I'm so exhausted by all this already, and we've only scratched the surface.

"Look, Edward, maybe I should have made my feelings clearer, but don't forget you spent the entire week claiming that you weren't gay. That's hardly the ideal basis for me to ask you if you see anything more happening between us."

Sitting down on the couch, Masen rests his head in his hands for a second, before briefly looking back up at me.

"I was so fucking confused. I still am. I don't understand how you've flipped my world upside down. This isn't me, and I don't know how to react properly." His gaze fixes on the floor. He's definitely not used to this.

"So talk to me, don't flip out on me and make me feel like shit in the process." I sit on the opposite end of the couch to him, keeping us a respectable distance apart.

"I tried. I emailed and emailed, but you wouldn't respond."

Lifting his head, he looks right at me, and I can see the pain in his eyes. I really shouldn't have ignored him the way I did; we're not teenagers.

"I'm sorry. Honestly I am. I thought you just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to tell anyone or something." I really couldn't have dealt with him begging me not to out him. To have insinuated that I would shove him out of the closet just because I was angry would have annoyed me no end.

"No, I just wanted to figure out where we stood. But I guess I can't blame you for ignoring me. I'm not used to it, though. People normally do exactly what I tell them to do." He shrugs a little as he talks, having the decency to be a little embarrassed at expecting compliance from everyone he meets.

The fact that people jump to please him doesn't surprise me in the least. His embarrassment does, however, and it softens me further.

"I'm not famed for wanting to follow orders," I admit. "I don't mind when it's part of my job, but I don't like putting my feelings aside completely. Especially after what you did."

It all goes quiet. We're sort of running in circles around the same issues now, and there's no point. He's sorry, I'm sorry. We still haven't moved forward.

I need some distance from him. "I should probably get going. You've probably got a load of work to be doing anyway."

I start to stand up, and Masen's hand shoots out to rest on my knee, imploring me to stay seated.

"I'm not here on business."

"What?" I don't understand what he means, and why he's telling me this. His hand is distracting me, and I'm torn as to whether or not to move away from it.

"I'm not here on business. I only came over to see you. I fly back tomorrow morning."

I forget that I was ever thinking about moving his hand, as I sink back into my seat and digest his words.

"Why did you want to see me?"

If he says for sex, I'm going to punch him in the fucking face.

"I needed to explain. I'm still really confused about... well... everything, but I know what I did was awful. Even if I haven't shown it, I really like you. We had a good time before I fucked up."

He hasn't looked at me once during his little speech, and I'm glad. He's not the only one who's confused, but I'm imagining it's for very different reasons.

"Yeah, we did. But you're still insistent that you're not gay, and as I recall, that was also a major part of that week."

He coughs a little. His face is pink and if this conversation wasn't so fucking bizarre I would laugh at his responses.

"I might not be quite as insistent now," he admits.

Well, that's something at least.

"What prompted the change of heart?"

He laughs. "Apart from enjoying sex with you?"

"Apart from that, yeah." What happened between us was more than just sex, for starters.

"I don't know, really. I just felt terrible after I left. It took me ages to figure out why, and I haven't completely wrapped my head around it yet. All I knew was I had to speak to you, somehow."

"So what do you see happening now, then?" I ask. Nothing matters in all his talk if he doesn't have a plan for going forward. I refuse to hang around on an off-chance.

He looks up at me, confusion written all over his face.

"Right now, Edward, you're firmly in the closet and we live on different continents. You visit once every couple of months, you spend the whole time working, and I definitely can't afford a trip to America any time soon. The way we both reacted to what happened tends to suggest something casual isn't really on the table for us. So what the fuck do we do?"

I didn't really mean to lay it all out like that, but at least he knows what we're contending with here. I'm not sure where his head has been over the last few weeks, but judging by the look on his face, he hasn't really thought things through. Well, not in quite the detail I have, anyway.

I take pity on him.

"Look, I'm not saying you need to have all this figured out right now. You do need to have some idea of what you're getting yourself into, though. I'm not willing to be strung along while you fly in every now and then. I'm not going to be anyone's secret. We both deserve a better life than that."

It might be slightly hypocritical of me to expect him to not keep me a secret. I can't imagine what Tanya would do if she found out what was going on.

I amend my statement, a little.

"You don't need to take out a full page spread in the newspaper to announce anything. I even understand if you don't want to flaunt things at work. But your family and friends? If you want something serious then I guess they will need to know sooner rather than later."

Edward nods, and sits back on the sofa. His hand falls away from my leg and I immediately miss the warmth it provided.

He is quiet for a while, and I stand up, getting myself a soft drink from his mini-bar. I consider turning the TV on, just for a bit of background noise, but he finally speaks.

"I think you're right, I do need to take a bit more time to think this over properly."

I'm not sure if I wanted to hear that or not.

"That week, everything was so clear, Carlisle. Even when I was working and away from you, I knew what I wanted. I mean, I was confused but even so, I still wanted to explore things with you. But then on that night out, everyone was talking about women. They were inviting girls to the table, and I just freaked out. Lauren was there, and she wanted me. It was expected and it was easy."

I definitely didn't want to hear that.

"It was like I had something to prove; like they knew what had happened while I was away." His eyes are fixed on mine while he speaks and even though I hate what he's talking about, I want to hug him.

"I can see where you're coming from," I admit. "I guess when I was still coming to terms with being gay, I made some stupid choices."

Edward smiles gratefully at me.

"It doesn't exactly forgive what happened the next day, though. If you want a relationship with me, any game playing needs to stop. I hate it."

I finish my drink and leave the glass in the kitchen, moving to sit next to him again.

"I get that you need time, and that's fine. I'm not going to promise I will sit here and be an angel while you're figuring stuff out, though." That's probably a dickhead thing to say, but I don't care. He could take months to work through his feelings. I'm not a fucking monk.

"You can email or call me whenever you need, though. I will reply as soon as I can."

I do want to make this work with him, if possible. He acted like such a fucking idiot, but we had a fun week before that. I don't want to string him up because of one mistake.

Edward nods, and I grab his hand with mine, giving it a squeeze.

"You'll be fine. Even if you decide a relationship isn't what you want, I'm still happy to have a friendship with you."

"Thanks, Carlisle. I just need to figure out how it would work, I guess." He laughs dryly. "It could take a while. It's a pretty big ocean we need to work around."

I'm pretty sure it's not just the Atlantic he's talking about. Either way, he's right, it's fucking massive.

His hand is firmly clasped in mine as I stand up to leave.

I don't drop it.

At the door he pulls me back to face him.

"I tried to book you," he says, cringing at his language, no doubt remembering the "whore" conversation we had earlier. I know I am. "No... I mean... I tried to ask for you to drive me back to the airport tomorrow, but Tanya said you weren't available?"

I shake my head. "I've got my nephews tomorrow, while my sister works."

Now I also need to schedule Garrett in for after that. He's going to want to beat me over the head with something for even speaking to Edward again. I might as well get it over with when I already have a headache from the boys.

Edward nods, a slight smile on his face. "Oh right. I wasn't too pissed because you were working today. I figured if she said no to both, then we might have a problem."

I laugh.

"Tanya would do absolutely anything to keep your custom. She would probably babysit the boys for me while I picked you up, if she thought it would help."

A look spreads across Edward's face, and I roll my eyes.

"Don't even think about it. I need to spend some time with my nephews." He looks abashed, and I run my thumb over his pink-stained cheek. "It was a nice thought. But no."

I go to open the door, and he stops me once again.

"Can I kiss you?"

I'm sure my surprise is plainly written on my face, and he qualifies his question.

"Just in case... I want to feel how I felt with you again. Sometimes I wonder if I'm exaggerating it all in my mind."

No pressure then.

I nod, and he dips his head slightly to capture my lips. It's not a hugely passionate kiss, he is tentative, and I am aware that I really shouldn't start anything I won't want to stop.

It's still fucking brilliant, though.

He pulls back, and I grin, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Definitely no exaggeration. Fuck."

A smile graces his face, and I pull him into a hug. His arms wrap around me immediately, holding me so tightly it's almost a struggle to pull in enough air to speak.

"You can email me, or text, or anything, whenever you need, okay?"

My hand is playing in the hair at the nape of his neck, while he buries his head into my shoulder. I feel him nod, and start to untangle us.

He leans against the wall as I leave, looking deliciously rumpled.

"Bye, Carlisle. Drive safe."

I laugh. "You know my driving is amazing. Bye, Edward. Take care, okay?"

He nods, and I turn away, satisfied with how things have gone.

Chancing a glance back as I wait for the lift, I see him leaning against the door jamb. He gives me a shy wave and heads back into his suite.

I text Garrett immediately. I'm surprised he hasn't been blowing up my phone already; he knew what was happening today.

"_Fancy coming over tomorrow night? I'll cook. You bring beer."_

His reply is instant.

"_Fuck making plans. What happened with Masen? Or was he buried so deep in the closet you couldn't even find him?"_

Tomorrow is going to be interesting. I can feel it now.

"_Jesus, Gar, lots happened. I will tell you tomorrow."_

"_You're such a tease, Carlisle - I bet that's how you get all the girls. Fine, tomorrow it is. I will bring beer, and a sledgehammer to beat you round the head with. I've got a feeling it'll be needed."_


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey look, it's Sunday!  
**

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts.  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. As always, I have tinkered with this since I got it back, so any mistakes are mine.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

"Let me get this straight. You don't want to hang around waiting for him to make his mind up, so you told him he needed to make a decision."

"Yes." I keep my focus on dishing out our food, and do not meet my best friend's eyes.

"He made that decision, which was that he needed more time, and now you're now hanging around, waiting for him to make up his mind?"

Garrett arrived at my flat about twenty minutes ago. He put the beers he brought into my fridge, and then immediately demanded that I recount every minute of my conversation with Masen. Once I'd told him everything I could remember, he's been questioning me relentlessly. Most of his analysis seems to point to the fact I'm a fucking moron.

"Well, yeah, I guess so. It's not like that, though."

"Oh really?" His scepticism shines through his words. "What is this genius plan of yours that I'm not seeing, Carlisle?"

I carry our plates through to the lounge, knowing Garrett won't eat at the table like a civilised human being. It drives me mad, but I let him get away with it, most of the time. He tends to agree when I do insist we eat at the table – it's usually for a good reason. However, today is not a day to piss him off for any reasons other than my conversation with Masen.

He follows me with a couple of beers, and I crack mine open and take a drink before sitting down with my food.

"I hope you enjoy it. I've been slaving like a fucking housewife all afternoon to make it."

That's a total lie. I made the kids help with the easy prep, and it didn't take long at all. Garrett doesn't need to know that, though. I need to soften him up somehow.

"I'm sure it'll be delicious. Now answer my question, I want to hear your genius at work."

He looks at me expectantly as he begins to shovel food into his mouth. I've met his parents; they're not wolves, so I'm not sure why he feels the need to eat like that. It makes me feel a little ill.

Throwing him a packet of baby wipes I keep handy for when the kids are here, I slowly chew my food, trying to put off answering him. It can't be put off forever, though. Garrett is staring a hole into my head.

"I told him I wasn't going to wait for him. I'm not going to stop myself going out to avoid hurting his feelings while he's deciding."

Garrett breathes out a laugh, and shakes his head.

"Oh, right then, so do you want to go out on Thursday night? You're off Friday, right? We haven't been out in ages."

He is unbelievably obvious.

"Fuck off. I'm not going to go and sleep with someone because you goad me into making a point. We're not fifteen-year olds." Even though recently I have been behaving like one.

"Exactly, we're not fifteen, so it's no big deal. We can go to a club, and you can watch me dance; I know you love that. If you're a good boy, I'll even let you dance with me. The girls would lap it up, and I could find someone to take home. I bet some boys would love it, too. Then you can choose whether or not you want to get laid as well, or if you want to hang around moping about Masen."

He grins at me before taking a swig of his beer.

"Shut the fuck up, Gar. I don't want to go out this week. End of conversation."

It's not that a good night out and an easy fuck wouldn't be nice – I just don't want to right now. Whether or not that has anything to do with Edward, I'm not sure. I'm not about to debate that with Garrett, though.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop bugging you about it. We should go out this week though, even if it's just to the pub. Nice as your place is, I'd like to be somewhere I'm not terrified of spilling my drink."

Given the way he is waving his beer bottle round while he talks, I'm fairly sure he's not really that bothered about doing it here either.

"Yeah, okay. The pub sounds good. There should be some football on sometime, so we can head out to watch that." At least if there is sport on we can concentrate on that, and he can stop winding me up about Edward. Watching sport will also decrease the likelihood of him deserting me for another conquest. I don't begrudge him getting laid, but being left alone in a pub gets old fast.

We finish our meals quickly - before they have a chance to get completely cold - and make our arrangements for the week. I am enjoying the reprieve in questioning about Edward, when he starts up again.

"So have you heard anything from him since yesterday, then?"

I consider lying to him, but I can't imagine any answer will make him okay with the situation. So I go with the truth.

"He sent me a text me earlier. He was just complaining that the driver he had today didn't have any bottles of water in the car. Nothing life changing."

"What? Why is that an issue? Is he a fish? Oh my god, you've fallen in love with a merman. I fucking knew you were hiding something. I'm going to ring Jeremy Kyle; this is tabloid talk show gold. You're going to make me a fortune."

My best mate is a fucking idiot. I'm fairly sure he thinks the same about me.

"He's not a merman, you absolute buffoon."

I walk out and grab us another beer each, handing his over before I sit back down.

"Well, why is he obsessed with water then?" He pops the cap off his beer, before throwing the bottle opener at me. I'm not sure if he was aiming for my head – if he was, it was a fairly good shot. Thank God, I have quick reflexes.

"He's not obsessed, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Sending you texts about water is a little bit weird," he points out.

I sigh. "It's not really about the water. It's just something we kind of bonded over when I first started driving him."

"Wow, bonding over a natural source of fluid. You kids are wild. I can think of more fun natural fluids you could have bonded over, though." Garrett smirks at me, and I just manage to resist throwing the TV remote at him.

"Have I told you lately that you're a dickhead?"

Taking a swig of his beer, he shrugs at me. "Not this week. You've been too busy telling me what an asshole Masen is."

He's right, I have. I'm not about to let him know I agree with his reasoning, though.

"Well, you're a dickhead."

"I'm just telling it like it is, C. Mind you, I guess you two eventually bonded in a more fun way, so maybe I'll let you off."

"Shut up, Garrett."

I pick up the remote control. It's a tough choice between launching it at his head, or using it to switch the TV on – either one is likely to shut him up. I choose the TV; I don't want to break the thing.

There isn't much on TV to watch, so I keep the volume low while some drama plays out on the screen. Garrett actually listens to me, and remains quiet for a while, sipping his beer and playing on his phone. I'm not sure what he's up to – probably texting one of the girls he knows, to see if he can meet up with them tonight. That's what he usually does when he drinks.

I grab my own phone out of my pocket, bored with the TV and Garrett's silence. My movement prompts another question from him, though.

"Did you reply to Masen, then?"

There are no messages waiting on my phone, so I throw it down next to me before answering.

"Yeah. Just to say have a safe flight." And maybe a few other things.

"You didn't even mention the water? But that's what brought you together! What if he thinks you don't care about your beginnings? I bet he's on that plane now ordering water and sobbing into it." Garrett can't even make it to the end of his ridiculous statement without falling into laughter. Idiot.

"I mentioned the fucking water. So I'm sure he's on the plane sipping whiskey and flirting with the air hostesses." As soon as I mention it, I feel a little sick. I hope he's not flirting with anyone, male or female.

Garrett notices my discomfort at the topic, and stands up. "I'm going to find some snacks. You must have some lurking in your cupboards. Do you want me to put them in specific bowls or can you cope if I pick the crockery out?"

"The blue bowls are for snacks..." I trail off as I see Garrett's smirk. He knows all this. He's such a fucking wind up merchant. "Just go and find me some food and shut the hell up for five minutes."

He shoots me a wink as he heads out to the kitchen. He knows when to stop pushing. His annoying behaviour is his way of keeping my mind off Edward, and I kind of love him for it.

He's still a dickhead, though.

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LHR 11:00, Friday 21st May. Meet at arrivals. Name "James." Drop off at Marble Arch._

.

Victoria James is a fucking nutjob.

She's been twittering on since I picked her up about how handsome I am. She wants me to come shopping with her, carry her bags, and help her back to her hotel room.

Then she wants me to help her into bed.

I don't even know how to respond.

The traffic is fairly heavy, and I pretend I need to keep all my concentration on driving, so I can avoid her questions. She is becoming more and more suggestive, and the things she's saying are making me cringe. It's not a regular occurrence that women hit on me; it happens sometimes when I'm out with Garrett, but it's rare. I hate dealing with it in those instances, and this is ten times worse thanks to the fact I'm working.

Suddenly, I find myself grateful for all of Masen's bullshit. At least it's taught me to bite my tongue where work is involved.

We pull up to the drop-off point, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I jog round to open her door.

I stand as far away as possible from her, while trying to remain professional. I turn to face the direction she is heading, hoping that she will take the hint.

She doesn't.

"You've left the engine running. Aren't you coming with me?"

She emphasises the 'coming' and I try not to let the horror show on my face. Her hand is resting on my chest, fingering my tie. I try to step away but the car is at my back – there's nowhere to go.

I realise she is still waiting for a response. It needs to be polite, but that's difficult through gritted teeth.

"I'm afraid I can't. I still have to work."

Her hand travels further down my chest as she tries to persuade me.

"It won't all be work. I'll make it worth your while when we get back to the hotel."

She flicks open a button of my jacket. I move immediately to redo it, but she covers my hand with hers, stopping me. Her other hand comes to rest over my crotch, and I freeze in surprise.

"I paid enough for your services; you should be doing whatever I ask of you."

Her comment brings me out of my state of shock, and I step to the side, away from her. I don't even respond, walking back to the other side of the car and jumping in before she can continue.

My hands are shaking on the steering wheel as I drive away. I really should pull over, but I just want to get as far away from that woman as possible. The comment about my payment reminded me of that horrible day with Masen. I'm not sure if that's why I'm so shaken up, or if it's because I'm more than happy to let Masen touch me. I know Victoria is a woman, so that changes things, but even so, she's still a client – just like he is.

I stop off to buy some beer before I get home, and send a quick email to Tanya explaining what happened. She replies immediately, asking me to come in and see her straight away.

Always one for following orders, I pop home first, putting the beer in the fridge for when I get back later. I've got no plans for tonight. An evening in front of the TV with some alcohol seems perfect.

Tanya's office is in its usual state of disarray. I bring my own drink – non-alcoholic unfortunately – as I still can't bring myself to drink out of any mugs stored in that room.

"What happened, Carlisle?"

I move a few papers off the chair, and sit down, grimacing when she motions that I should put the paper down on a pile on the floor. Buy a fucking file.

"She wanted me to come back to her hotel."

"And do what?"

"Watch TV and talk about our feelings."

Tanya raises an eyebrow. For someone so disorganised, her eyebrows are neat – plucked to perfection.

"I don't know. She wanted to fuck, I guess. I left before it was specifically stated. It was implied though."

"How?"

I pause, waiting for Tanya to be mid-sip of her drink before I answer. "She put her hand on my dick."

It has the desired effect, and I hand her a tissue out of my pocket pack to help her wipe her eyes after her coughing fit.

"Well, she's emailed me to complain about you. She said you were unprofessional and unhelpful. She doesn't want to pay for the trip."

"I was entirely professional. I picked her up on time, dropped her off at the right location. I didn't vomit in her face, which was a strong possibility, or tell her what a disgusting human being she was. So all in all, she got quite a good service."

Tanya smiles at me. "Okay. I just needed to hear it from you. She won't be getting a refund, and I'll make sure she's on the list of people we won't take jobs from."

I just about resist snorting. Victoria's name might go on a fucking list but, judging by the state of this office, that list will be lost almost immediately.

"Are you okay, Carlisle?"

My eyes meet Tanya's; I'm not quite sure what she's asking.

"Well, I know how I'd feel if someone did that to me," she clarifies.

"I'm fine. I've got beer in the fridge. It'll take more than a client hitting on me to shake me up."

Like a client changing sexual orientation for me, for example.

She nods. "I thought so, but I wanted to check. I know this is a business and we can't afford to piss off clients, but your well being is a priority."

I'm almost startled. Tanya and I get on well, but she's always been a boss – the business always comes first. It's comforting to know she is keeping her eye on things, and that she will take our word over that of the clients. After all, individual drivers are expendable; customers are the ones who keep the business afloat.

I leave her office feeling a lot calmer than when I entered, which is no mean feat, given the mess it's in. I usually leave with palpitations and the urge to buy a fuckload of bleach.

~-DTD-~

"Hi." Edward's voice is almost shy. It makes me laugh a little.

He emailed me this afternoon asking if he could call me. I was already on my second beer after my ridiculous day, so it probably wasn't the best idea, but I replied and said yes. It took him a couple of hours – and me a couple of beers – to have a break in his day to call, but he eventually did. I'm not entirely sure what he wants to talk about, though.

"Hi, Edward." I flick the volume down on the film I'm watching, and lie back on the sofa, staring at a crack in the ceiling.

I don't know what to expect from this conversation, and I'm a little nervous. While we have had contact since he went back home, it's been fairly limited, and we haven't spoken on the phone at all. I'm nervous that he's made his choice, or – more accurately – that he's made his choice and it isn't me.

"You're not busy are you?"

"No. I'm just watching a film, drinking some beer. Pretty standard for me when I'm not working."

There's a pause and I check that the line is still open.

Finally, he speaks again. "Are you going out tonight?"

"No, why?" I've got no idea how we jumped from me watching a film to me going out.

"You're drinking, I thought it might be a pre-night-out drink."

I laugh. "No, this is an 'I've had a crappy day at work' drink."

When he speaks again, he doesn't sound much happier. "What happened in work?"

I'm not sure he'll really want to know, but in the interests of being honest with him, I tell him.

"I was driving a woman into the city today and she tried it on with me. It's no big deal, I just feel a bit gross about it. I need to unwind, and beer felt like the perfect way. Turns out, it is. I'm very relaxed now." I move a cushion under my head, starting to feel a little dizzy at lying flat on my back.

"Tried it on how?" Why the fuck does he want to know details?

"Oh. She just made some comments about going to her hotel room. And then when I let her out the car she put her hand on my dick."

I couldn't have known, but judging by the coughing fit coming down the phone, I timed that to perfection. Two in a day, that's not a bad score at all. I do like shocking people at inappropriate moments.

"What the fuck? What did you do?"

"I ran away. Quickly. She complained to Tanya about me, but Tanya is on my side, so it's fine."

"Jesus, Carlisle."

"It's fine, it's sorted."

He goes quiet again, and I get up to grab another beer while I wait for him to talk.

"I've got some business in London next month."

Next month could be either a week or five weeks away, but I resist the opportunity to ask for specifics. I keep quiet and let him continue.

"We'll need transport from the airport, obviously. Would you mind if I asked for you, or should I ask for someone else?"

Considering he's given me fuck all information, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to answer that.

"Who is 'we'? And is there a reason I'd want you to request someone else? I guess that all depends on where we stand, doesn't it?"

"'We' is me, obviously, and I'm bringing Emmett with me this time."

I chastise myself a little for worrying it was going to be a woman.

"As for us, well, I think I've made some progress. I'd rather talk to you about it in person, though, if that's ok?"

"That depends on whether it's good progress or bad progress. If it's bad, just get it over with now. That way I've got a few weeks to decide whether I need to call in sick when you come over, so I don't have to see you."

I can hear him breathe out a laugh and I roll my eyes.

"You're so to-the-point, Carlisle. It's good progress, I'd say. I've told Emmett about us, if that reassures you?"

"Told him what?"

For all I know, this is a regular thing that Edward does when he's away. The gender might be different, but that could be all he's told Emmett. It doesn't mean anything.

That's what I try to tell myself, anyway.

"I told him that things between you and me were... different. I didn't go into detail, but he knows the basics."

Wow.

Edward continues, "We've only got business up to the Thursday but it's... well... I thought we might stay until the following Monday, if you want to spend some time together where I'm not distracted by work? I was going to suggest going away; you could drive us somewhere. But then... that's probably not fair on you. I don't want you to feel you have to see me."

Holy shit. He seems serious about this.

"Yeah, I'm not sure about going away. I could book the Friday and the weekend off work, maybe? Then we're free to do what we want, but it's on my time, not the company's."

"I just didn't want you being out of pocket."

"It's fine, I get paid holidays. I can always just arrange my days off around it if needs be. Tanya will be fine about it. I'll tell her it's for the kids or something if she questions it, but she won't."

"Okay." He has definitely perked up as this conversation has gone on. "So I'll email Tanya now and book us in for the Sunday, and then again for the following Monday. We can play the week by ear."

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Thanks, Carlisle. I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

He's so fucking adorable when he wants to be.

"Me too. I'll see you soon, then."

"Okay, bye, Carlisle. Goodnight."

"Night, Edward."

Within twenty minutes, a confirmation email has come through from work. I've got three weeks, and then the wait is over.

Fuck, I seriously need to sort my head out before then.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. I've been tinkering with this, as usual, so any mistakes are mine.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LHR 10:00, Sunday 13__th__ June. Meet at arrivals. Name "Masen." Two passengers. Drop off at 45 Park Lane._

_._

I am so fucking nervous about this.

I'm holding a three-storey tower of coffee cups for Edward, Emmett, and myself, and it's wobbling precariously. The woman next to me at the arrivals gate looks nervous, probably with good reason, but I can't bring myself to care.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I should probably check that it isn't Edward letting me know of some change in his plans, but there's no way this pillar of cardboard cups will survive being held one handed.

In all probability, it's just Garrett texting me to wind me up again. He's been at it all fucking morning. He vehemently disagrees with my decision to hear Edward out, and I've had numerous texts since I woke up reminding me of my past conquests. I think the idea is that I will realise what I might be giving up, and I'll rush away from the airport, leaving the coffees hanging in mid-air like some ridiculous cartoon.

People start pouring through the arrivals gate, and I'm developing balance skills I never knew I had as I'm jostled from all angles. Fortunately, Edward is out quickly – presumably thanks to having Emmett with him – and I steer their luggage trolley with my forearms as I head to meet them.

Edward is almost shy, accepting his coffee from me with a small smile and a quiet "Thank you." Emmett, on the other hand, stands back and looks between us both for a minute. I have no idea what's going on, and a glance at Edward doesn't help, as he shrugs his shoulders and looks back to Emmett expectantly.

It takes him a while, but we finally get an explanation.

"I just wanted to see if you guys... fit together."

Edward's eyes narrow, and I can tell Emmett is about to get a bollocking. I think he can tell, too, as he rushes to explain.

"I don't mean like _that._ I just meant, you know, if you work well together, if you look good together – that kind of thing. No offense, but thinking about any other fitting together you guys do definitely isn't something I want to do." He gestures towards Edward with a grimace. "I know we're friends, but you're still my boss, and we're on company time right now."

Edward nods, seeming to have calmed down slightly, and takes a sip of his coffee before answering. "Yeah, and don't you forget it." His eyes sweep the area around us before he clears his throat and continues, "Let's go before this turns into more of a circus than it already is."

I look round, realising for the first time that we are attracting quite a few looks from people. We are standing in quite an awkward place in the airport though, right in the middle of a busy zone. I push the trolley off, leading the way out to the car.

I turn on Edward's favourite radio station when we're settled, and hand the two men a bottle of water each, to save any faffing around when we're moving. Edward's fingers brush against mine as the bottle exchanges hands, and I try desperately to ignore the part of me that wants to take hold of him and not let go.

Remembering that my phone buzzed while I was waiting, I check it before we move off, just in case it was anything important. It wasn't. It was Garrett, as I suspected, and I must have missed another couple of vibrations, as there are three messages waiting.

"_That blonde guy we met at Rose's birthday meal. You said he had arms that were made for holding himself over you as he fucked you."_

"_How about that guy from Italy? The one who was travelling around Europe. He offered you a ride on his moped, and you offered him a ride on something else."_

"_You're obviously busy. Just be careful, C. Please. I don't want to have to kick a rich guy's ass, but I'll do it if I have to. You'd best visit me in jail, though."_

He means well.

I don't reply; I've kept my passengers waiting long enough.

Edward and Emmett talk quietly in the back of the car as we travel through the city. It's a nice summer's day today, the sun is high in the sky and everyone seems determined to soak up every ray. I can't blame them; this won't last for long.

Pulling up outside the hotel, I cringe as I realise the doorman is the same one who heard our 'whore' conversation last time Edward was here. He is as professional as ever, though, greeting Edward and Emmett and offering me a nod of the head.

I unload their bags to the porter, and Emmett follows him in.

Edward hangs back, and I lean against the car as I wait for him to speak.

"We should talk."

That's a start.

"Yeah, we really should. You're working, though, aren't you?" I'm sure he said he was working right through until Thursday. I wasn't expecting any time with him until then.

I say this to myself as if I haven't made sure the rest of my day today is free, just in case.

"Not today. Well, not until later. Emmett will sleep for a few hours; jet-lag affects him quite badly. We've not made any arrangements to do anything until this evening."

I nod, not really sure what else to do. He still hasn't mentioned what he wants to happen today, apart from talking.

"Are you free now? You could come up to my suite again –"

He trails off as he clearly sees the expression of shock on my face and then continues hastily.

"I didn't mean like that. Jesus. We can talk up there and it's private. We can stay in the bar if you really want to, but I promise I'll behave myself."

It's not _him _behaving himself that worries me.

"Okay. I'll meet you up there?"

He shakes his head.

"I'll wait in the lobby for you."

I decide against the palaver, and just hand the car keys over to a valet; I can't be bothered parking it myself, or putting this conversation off any longer.

Masen collects his room key and we head up together in the lift.

Trying to keep a calm exterior, I shove my hands into my pockets. My phone bumps my fingers, and I realise I should probably text Garrett back – he's been doing my head in all day, but his heart is in the right place.

I shoot an apologetic smile to Edward as I pull my phone out, and send off a quick message.

"_Talking things out with Edward. No need for ass kicking as of yet. And anyway, I don't associate with felons, so keep your feet to yourself."_

He replies immediately

"_Hey, that's not what this girl said to me the other night. She had a fucking foot fetish. I knew I had something to tell you..."_

I fucking hate feet. They are designed for walking on, not for sexual pleasure. One guy I met on a night out had a foot fetish. I didn't find out until I was back at his place, flat on my back, with my toes in his mouth. I had to leave his apartment before either of us got anywhere. Fucking disgusting. I mean each to their own, but not a fucking chance you'll get me doing that.

Garrett laughs himself stupid every time I tell that story.

"_Fuck off, Gar."_

He's a dickhead, but conversations with my best mate are pretty much guaranteed to make me smile. I look up as the lift dings, signalling its arrival at Edward's floor, to see his eyes on me.

"Sorry, Garrett's just being... Garrett."

Edward smiles back at me. "It's okay; it's good to see you happy again."

Embarrassed by his close scrutiny, I concentrate on putting my phone away, and follow Edward into his suite.

"I'll just go change, I'm sick of wearing this suit. Make yourself comfortable, help yourself to a drink."

I grimace at my suit as Edward disappears into the bedroom. It's fucking uncomfortable, but at least when Edward is in business attire too, I don't feel ridiculous. I take off my jacket and tie, undoing the top button of my shirt and rolling my sleeves up.

After laying the clothes neatly on the arm of the sofa, I head to the mini bar. I could do with something stronger, but I stick to soft drinks – I have to drive home after all. Giving me any more reason to want, or need, to stay here with Edward would not be a good thing.

He re-emerges in jeans and a t-shirt. He looks incredible, as per usual, and I almost have to sit on my hands to stop myself from tracing a finger along the line where his t-shirt meets his bicep when he approaches me.

"Did you get a drink?"

I nod towards my glass.

"Okay, I'll grab one for myself and then we can talk, yeah?"

That's what I'm here for.

He pours himself a soft drink, too, and joins me on the sofa. He seems quietly confident, more like the businessman I came to know, or the Edward who was comfortable in our relationship. It's nice to see that side of him back again. Tentative Edward is cute, but it's not who he really is.

"So, I told Emmett," he begins.

"How did that go?" I'm so curious. Knowing Edward he just announced it and walked off, leaving Emmett to stew on it.

"Well, I took him out to a sports bar, so he knew something was different from the start." A small smile appears on his face, and I grin back. Given what I know about Edward, his sudden change of heart must have been confusing for Emmett. And that's before he's even started on his real news.

"We had a few beers, chatted about sports for a while – he has terrible taste in football teams, by the way – and then I just told him."

"Just out of the blue?"

"Well, yeah. It's not really something I could build up to."

"What did you tell him?" Poor Emmett, being blindsided like that by your _boss. _What the fuck would you say?

"I just said that while I was away in March, we got closer. And that while I'm not completely sure what it all means, I want to explore it more."

"How did he take it?"

"He was completely nonplussed by the whole thing. He bought me another drink and said that when we came away this time, we'd better make sure our rooms aren't adjoining, so he doesn't hear... anything."

I love Emmett for not making a big deal of it.

"Anyway, he owes me for all the time at college when I'd walk in on him and some girl. I spent most of our freshman year in the library, avoiding him and his conquests."

The fact that they went to college together means their relationship makes so much more sense to me now. I know so little about Edward; I need to find out more.

Edward's face is a little pink as he adds, "I made sure his room here is a couple of floors down, though."

I raise an eyebrow at his assumption.

"I didn't mean we're definitely going to. It was just, you know, just in case."

Sipping my drink, I try to digest the information he has given me so far. Telling Emmett was a big step, possibly made even bigger by the fact that Emmett is a friend as well as an employee. He's still made no mention of his family. I assume they are still around, given all his questions when we spent that week together about how my family reacted.

Emmett is enough for now, though. Edward is showing willing, and by bringing Emmett with him this time, he has proved that he's not just telling me what I want to hear. Emmett really does know about what happened, and he knows that Edward is planning on continuing the relationship, if possible. That's a huge deal.

"Okay then. So what happens now you've told Emmett?"

"Well, short term, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up sometime during the week? We're pretty snowed under through until Thursday, but we could do something that evening? I feel bad deserting Em; he doesn't need to stay past Thursday, but he is because I am. Maybe I could bring him, and you could bring Garrett. It's the World Cup at the moment, right? The sports should keep him entertained while we're out."

I have no idea how Garrett will react to being in the same room as Edward, but he will absolutely jump at the chance to meet him. Hopefully, Emmett will keep him busy.

"Yeah, Garrett will be up for that. I will, too. I've booked that few days off work, so I'm free whenever."

"Okay. Can you choose somewhere to go? I don't know London well enough."

I nod, I'm sure we can think of somewhere that we can all enjoy.

"As for the Friday onwards, well I don't have anything major planned. I thought maybe we could just spend some time getting to know each other. You could show me round London and the places you love. Keep the Sunday free for me to plan, though. That's my day."

I can't imagine what he has planned, but I go along with it. It means I only have to entertain him for two days.

"We fly back home on the Monday. I guess at some point we will need to talk about where we go from here, but I'd like for us to just spend some time together, first."

He's really planned this out. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't this level of detail. I'm impressed, and slightly aroused.

What can I say? Organisation gets me going.

"So you want to make a go of things, then?"

His eyes dart up to meet mine. "Isn't that obvious? I'm trying, I really am."

I smile at him, resting my hand on his arm to calm him down.

"I just need to hear it, you know?" I hate feeling so fucking needy, but he really fucked me over last time. I need a concrete assurance that he is in this as much as I am.

"Yes. I want to try and make this work. I want to see you as much as possible this week, and I want to make it up to you that I was such a monumental asshole." His hand covers mine on his arm, and he squeezes gently. "I really am sorry," he adds, his eyes not quite managing to meet mine.

"Okay, well, I can't say one conversation is going to change everything. You behaved like a dick at the end of that week, and I can't say I'm not worried it'll happen again when you're due to fly out, or even when you're back in America –"

Edward draws in a breath, ready to interrupt me, but I don't allow him to.

"I'm not saying that you will. I'm just saying that my feelings about it aren't going to change overnight. The only way they will change is by you proving to me that you're serious about this. And that's what you intend to do, so you're doing everything you can. I can't ask for any more than that. It'll just take time."

He nods, understanding my point.

In all honesty, I am far more willing to let Edward into my life than I am admitting to him. There's something about him, and I don't know what it is, but it makes me want to know more about him. It makes me want to spend time with him, and pursue a relationship with him.

It's not on the cards to let Edward know all this yet, though. He needs to work for it.

We call it a day, then. Edward is clearly exhausted from his travelling, and I have to go and tell Garrett that we need to sort out a night out for Edward. I'm sure that will go down well. It might take him until Thursday to calm down about it.

~-DTD-~

Garrett insists that we get to the bar early. He claims it's so that we get decent seats, but I think really he just wants to have the upper hand.

He took the idea of meeting Edward well, almost too well. I'm sure he's up to something, but I made him promise to be on his best behaviour. His best behaviour isn't that great, to be honest, but it's all I've got. He needs to see that Edward isn't the complete dickhead that he thinks, and it will be nice for Emmett to have some company while he's over here, too.

We choose a booth where the TV's are visible from no matter where you sit, and I send Garrett up for the drinks. I hope that Edward shows up before he gets back, but it doesn't work out like that – Garrett has got us here far too early.

Our pints are half drunk by the time Edward and Emmett arrive, and I stand up to wave them over.

Edward is immediately apologetic when he sees our drinks. "Sorry, are we late?"

I catch the smirk on Garrett's face and shake my head at him before replying to Edward.

"No, you're not, we were here early. Garrett wanted to get good seats. Because the huge screens at either side of the room aren't enough for him."

I quickly introduce everyone, and Emmett goes to the bar to get a round of drinks.

Garrett is quite standoffish with Edward, who has sat down next to me, though he remains polite – which is more than I was expecting if I'm honest.

Edward does his best to include everyone in the conversation while Emmett is busy at the bar.

"Who are we supporting tonight?" he asks.

The TV is showing the teams warming up. It's France vs. Mexico and I couldn't care less who wins.

Garrett jumps in immediately, though. "Well, Carlisle and I will be supporting the European team, and I guess you'll be supporting the team from the Americas. You pick a team, and you stick with it, you know what I mean?"

I glare at him; that comment was completely obvious, and Edward is shifting uncomfortably next to me. He clearly understood the implication.

Emmett arrives back at the table and takes up the baton of the conversation. Edward was right – he loves his sports. Garrett is immediately distracted, arguing about the best formations to win the match with and I take advantage of his preoccupation to drop my hand to Edward's thigh. I give it a reassuring squeeze; he is doing his best to try and join in and be polite. It can't be easy for him. I'm annoyed at Garrett, but I can see that he's doing it from a good place.

While Garrett and Emmett are busy discussing the pros and cons of using wingers, I speak to Edward for the first time since he arrived.

"So how did your work go, then? Did you get everything done that you needed to?"

"It was okay. People did what I wanted them too, which is always a help. Saves time in the long run if they just do what I say straight away." He smiles at me, a little sheepishly, and I grin back. He's an arrogant fucker but I can't help but like it.

He is quiet for a minute before continuing. "It was bizarre though, not coming back to you at the end of the day. I guess it's because I'm in England, that's just how I got used to things being. Is that weird?"

The bar is dark – I'm not sure whether it's for atmosphere or just so that people can see the TV screens better. At this precise moment in time, however, I'm convinced the poor lighting is designed simply to piss me off. I can't tell whether Edward is blushing, but I'm fairly sure he is. I'm a sucker for vulnerable Edward. I think it's because he's so cocky and confident normally – which is fucking hot too – but the shyness around me is something that's only mine, and that will never not be a turn on.

"Wanting me around is never weird," I tell him, smiling. I kind of understand what he means, it has been strange this week, knowing he is around but not seeing him at all.

Garrett and Emmett have finished arguing about ridiculous things, and I look up to see Garrett staring at us with his eyebrow raised. I tilt my head at him, silently telling him to back off, and he grins at me.

"So, Edward," he begins. I can't see this going well. "Can we expect you to be checking out the girls or the boys in this bar tonight?"

"Gar..." I begin, but Edward talks over me.

"The only person I'll be 'checking out' is Carlisle. I know I screwed up, and I know you don't like me much – I can't blame you for that. But I'm here now-"

Garrett interrupts. "You were here three months ago – didn't stop you behaving like a dickhead. How is this going to be any different?"

I glance at Emmett with an apologetic smile, feeling terrible that he's being subjected to our relationship drama. He just shrugs his shoulders and goes back to watching the match. I guess he's used to ignoring any ridiculousness that surrounds Edward in his day to day life.

"It'll be different because I will make it different," Edward argues. "It's none of your business, but I fully intend to prove to Carlisle that I'm in this for real."

"Well, see that you do, because otherwise I'm going to have to kick your ass. Then I'll have to kick Carlisle's too, for being an idiot. And I've got decent shoes on tonight; I didn't spend a fortune on these things to waste them on your backsides."

I can't help but ask. "Whose backside are you going to use them on?"

He grins at me, and I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. "I was thinking about that foot fetish girl from last week. I could invite her round when you're there, so you can see her in action. I'm sure she wouldn't complain about an extra pair of hands... er... feet. She might even want to su-"

"I'm getting more drinks!" I stand up and start to push my way out of the booth. I can't let Garrett finish that sentence or I might vomit on Edward. That wouldn't be ideal. I don't really want to leave Edward and Garrett together without me to mediate, but if it's a choice between that and talking about foot fetishes? Edward can go to the lions.

The bar is quite quiet, as the game is partway into the first half, so I'm served fairly quickly. Trying to carry four pint glasses back to the table is a challenge, and I get beer all over my hands on the journey.

I don't stay at the table long, as I need to go and wash my hands, but while I'm there, I notice that Edward, Emmett and Garrett are all involved in a gentle debate about the game. I give Edward an encouraging smile and head off to the bathroom.

As I emerge, feeling a lot cleaner than I had a couple of minutes before, I bump into Edward. He catches my shoulders and pulls me in for a brief hug.

"How am I doing?" he asks.

"You're doing fine. Garrett hasn't been horrendous to you, which he was intending to be, I'm sure. So I guess you must have done something right. I'm glad you guys are here."

"I'm glad we're here, too." With that declaration, he shoots off to the bathroom.

I get back to the table and Garrett starts immediately. "Edward disappeared a little while ago. You weren't having a quickie in the bathroom were you? I can't imagine you'd cope well with that. Unless sex has started to cure your OCD?"

Not happening. Never in a million fucking years. The thought of it is almost more revolting to me than feet. Fucking germs.

"Fuck off, Garrett. He was asking me if I minded him putting a hit out on you. I said no, he should go for it, it'd be nice to have a bit of peace."

He clutches his chest dramatically. "You wouldn't, Brutus."

"I fucking would. Stop being a dickhead to him. He's trying hard here."

"It's only 'cause I love you, Carlisle."

"Something I should know about?" I look up to see Edward standing at the end of the table, his eyes flicking between me and Garrett.

Never at a loss for words, Garrett answers him. "Yeah, I'll always be number one in his heart. As long as you keep me on side then you're always in with a good chance with Carlisle. That said, mine's a pint. Thanks."

"Mate, I've just bought you a drink," I point out.

"You can never have too many drinks, Carlisle. Jesus."

"Pretty sure Alcoholics Anonymous would disagree with you there."

"Whatever." He looks up at Edward. "Are you still here? The bar's that way."

I put my head in my hands, and when I finally look up again, Edward is at the bar. I don't know what it is about Garrett that makes Edward do what he's asked, but it's almost amusing. It'd be better if my best friend wasn't someone who would completely take advantage of that fact.

The French team go one-nil down and Emmett is immediately gloating. Garrett remains convinced that France will pull it back, and I watch their back and forth with amusement.

Edward returns with Garrett's drink, and a whiskey for himself. Dealing with Gar is clearly driving him to the hard stuff – that doesn't surprise me in the least.

"Thanks."

Edward nods, acknowledging Garrett, and slides back in to sit by me. He sips the whiskey, ignoring his beer for now, and leans back against the seat, giving me a lazy smile.

"Are you enjoying the soc... football?" He grins at me, pleased that he corrected himself in time.

I couldn't really care less about football in general, and I tell him that.

He leans towards me, whispering in my ear. "Me neither. But I don't want to give Garrett something else to hate me for, so can we pretend that I do?"

I try to ignore my reaction to him being so close to me, but I don't really manage it. His hand is resting right next to my leg as he leans, and it's so reminiscent of when we were in the car together. Garrett and Emmett are deep in discussion about the game as I glance over to them, and I turn my head back to face Edward. I place a kiss on his cheek, and feel him smile in reaction.

"We can pretend. Thank you, for making the effort with him even when he's being a dickhead," I whisper back to him.

"I get that he means a lot to you. Anyway, he's not that bad." He moves back from me a little, and I try not to pout. He looks toward Garrett and Emmett, who are now focussed on the game and asks, a little louder, "What's all this about foot fetishes, anyway?"

Garrett turns to us immediately, with a smile on his face. "I knew I liked you, Edward." I raise my eyebrow at his comment, but he continues on regardless. "Tell me you have a dirt fetish. Do you really like having sex in kitchens? Or mud? Messy rooms?"

Edward laughs as I roll my eyes, secretly praying that he doesn't.

"No," he says. I breathe a sigh of relief. Until he starts up again. "But I do have a real thing for un-alphabetised DVDs. They really get me going."

Garrett breaks into a wide smile at Edward, before glancing back at me, laughing. "Mate, I hope you're adept at sex with your eyes shut."

I don't even acknowledge him, simply looking at Edward, who winks at me. I'm fairly sure he was kidding.

A cheer from Emmett pulls us all away from the conversation, thank God. Mexico are now two-nil up, and Garrett is not impressed. I couldn't care less as long as we stop talking about sex.

Edward leans towards me once more. "I don't really have a thing for disorder," he tells me. I relax, although, to him, I pretend I knew that all along.

"Dirt?"

"No."

"Kitchens?"

"Where I prepare food? No, thanks."

If I wasn't convinced we were meant to be together already, I am now. I forget where we are, and kiss him soundly on the lips. To his credit, Edward doesn't freak out, although he doesn't try to deepen the kiss at all, or move his hands to hold me.

Garrett wolf-whistles and I pull back, feeling my cheeks heat up a little. I really did forget where we were.

"Hot," he tells us. Emmett is smiling at Edward. I think they're having their own conversation while Garrett continues to be a dick. "If I'd have known you were going to kiss I would have got my camera phone out. I could use it as blackmail if Edward fucks you over again."

"Garrett, for fuck's sake, shut up."

"I'm joking, Jesus. Edward knows that, don't you?"

I look at Edward who is looking a little pale, but okay.

"Well, I've already told you I'm not going to fuck him over, so I guess it's not an issue at all. Maybe you would just want the video for your own personal use."

I laugh, and Garrett grins.

"Eh, maybe. I doubt it though. Carlisle's been in my bed enough times that I don't need any videos for er... how did you put it, personal use? Speaking of which, time is getting on, and I hear you boys have got an action packed few days coming up. We should get going, C."

I nod. The match is over and I know that Edward must be tired after a long week. I squeeze Edward's thigh again, and kiss him goodbye, promising to pick him up in the morning. He seems a little shell-shocked by our abrupt departure.

"I thought maybe you would want to stay with me tonight," he whispers to me as I pull him into a hug by the table.

I know what he means, I think we both know where we stand, but I'm not about to fall into bed with him again so easily. He still has a few things to prove to me.

"Maybe later in the week," I assure him.

Garrett once again invades the conversation. "Yeah, he's mine tonight. I've even changed my sheets for him. I'm not letting him go, he needs to keep me warm." He pulls me away from Edward and wraps his arms around me from behind, rubbing them slightly over my chest.

I roll my eyes towards Edward, who – thank God – laughs at Garrett's display.

"See you tomorrow?" Edward asks.

"Tomorrow." I promise him.

* * *

**AN#2: Now for the bad news. I am away for the next two weekends, so there won't be another DTD update until the new year. Chapter 13 will go up on January 6th.**

**The not-so-bad news is that I've written a Christmassy Finding Our Feet future take, which will go up at some point over the holidays. I can't guarantee when, but it'll hopefully be before the new year.  
**

**So if you are a FOF reader, I will see you over there at some point. If not, I will see you here in the New Year. Happy Christmas if you celebrate it, Happy Holidays if you dont (and if you don't have holidays then... Happy few weeks :) ). I hope whatever you're doing, you have a peaceful and beautiful time.  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**Yeah, I have no patience to wait til tomorrow. I hope you don't mind ;)  
**

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts! We've hit over 300 reviews, which is completely amazing, I can't thank you all enough.  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. I've been tinkering, as always, though - so any mistakes are mine.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
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* * *

Friday morning arrives and I'm strangely calm.

I wake up way before the alarm goes off, but that might be because Garrett is sprawled over me. He's a fucking bed-hog, but I've learnt that if I don't let him push me around, he just molds himself to me in the end. It's not ideal, but it's easier than sleeping on a square inch of bed. If I'm honest, I quite like him sleeping so close to me.

Scooting out from underneath Garrett, I leave him a pillow to cuddle in my place so he doesn't wake up. Throwing on one of his t-shirts and heading into the kitchen, I glance around trying to decide where to start. My phone is resting on the kitchen counter so I send a quick text message to Edward before making myself a coffee.

I never used to drink coffee regularly. The man has got me addicted with all his coffee talk.

Edward is clearly awake too – or maybe my message woke him up – as he replies quickly.

"_Can't wait to see what you've got planned for the day. I will be ready at nine, as requested. Edward."_

I'm nervous he will hate what I've chosen for us to do, but I didn't really want to take him on the main tourist route. Too many people around, and I doubt he's overly interested in sightseeing. If he expresses an interest, than we can always do it tomorrow. For today, though, I think talking is more important.

Garrett emerges from the bedroom, yawning and scratching his bare chest, as I'm pouring my drink.

"I can't believe you left me for a hot beverage," he grumbles.

Grabbing another mug out of his cupboard, I pour him a drink before replying. "Well, you weren't helping to get me up this morning, so I turned to coffee."

He snorts, craning his neck to the side so that he can see the lower half of my body, which is clad only in boxer shorts. Grinning, he nods towards my not-quite-deflated morning wood. "I don't need to be awake to get you up, clearly."

"Fuck off."

Unaffected by my words as always, he slumps onto his couch and flicks the news channel on. I sit down next to him, watching and listening to the TV, but not really taking anything in. Rolling news is somehow hypnotic, and I glance at the clock to realise that thirty minutes has passed.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" I ask Garrett.

"Shouldn't you be lubing yourself up in preparation for Edward? Clearly you're intending to let him back in easily."

I glare at him and start to move to get dressed – I can't be bothered hanging round if he's going to be a dick about things. His hand rests on my thigh before I can get very far, though.

"Sorry. That wasn't fair."

"No, it wasn't. You met him last night; you know he's not as big an asshole as you thought. And it's not like we're fucking engaged or something; we're only going on a date." Edward and I are in a little deeper than just dating, I think, but I'm not about to mention that to Garrett.

"I only thought he was an asshole because he treated you like shit, Carlisle. You weren't exactly singing his praises yourself."

Time is getting on, so I stand up and walk towards Garrett's en-suite. He follows me while I continue talking.

"I know I wasn't, but you don't have to continue to be a dick about him now you've met him. You can see that he's trying. There's not much else he can do right now, seeing as I'm making him take it slow. He put up with your whiney ass all last night and didn't kill you, so that has to count for something."

"It does, I guess."

Garrett is still in the bathroom with me, but it doesn't stop me stripping off and jumping in the shower. If he's uncomfortable, he can leave.

I discover that he's not uncomfortable at all, as the shower door opens again about a minute later, and he gets in too.

"Really, Garrett? Really?"

"It's saving water, Carlisle. I'm all about conservation." This from the man who has every electrical outlet in his apartment switched on. His explanation is definitely a lie.

"Or do you just want to be able to say to Edward that after we all spent an evening together, I ended up in your bed all night, and we showered together in the morning?"

Garrett says nothing, leaning past me to grab his shower gel and lather up. He squirts some directly onto my chest before throwing the plastic bottle back onto the shower floor. He's got a fucking shelf right there.

I don't have time to argue with him, though, because his hands are on my chest helping to soap it up. He can't even meet my eyes, and I can see the grin on his face, even though he is looking downwards.

"You're never going to clean me to my standards, you know?" He really won't.

He starts giggling like a fucking child. "But you can tell Edward that I had a good go. Look! I'm being so thorough."

I lean back against the shower wall, almost intrigued as to how far he will take it. We're comfortable around each other, but this is new.

"I don't think Edward will care," I inform him, as his hands run over my arms, washing them slowly.

"He will. I saw the look on his face when I had my hands on you yesterday. He's jealous."

"I'm fairly sure he isn't. He was laughing when I looked at him. Anyway, he knows you're no competition; I've told him we share a bed all the time and nothing happens."

"No fucking competition, how rude," Garrett grumbles. "I bet you thirty quid he asks you about this while you're out today."

"Fine, you're on; thirty quid. Now go away so I can wash properly." I open the glass door and start to push him backwards, but he clings onto my arm.

"I'm all soapy, you can't throw me out, you dick!"

"You should have thought about that before. You've got another bathroom, go and use the shower in there." I finally get him out. "And don't steal my bath towel."

He steals my bath towel.

Dickhead.

~-DTD-~

Edward is waiting outside the hotel when I pull up. I check the clock on the dashboard to make sure I'm not late – I'm going to kill Garrett if I am – but I'm not. He's clearly just eager, and that's no bad thing.

He slips into the car before I can even think about getting out to open the door for him.

"You're not working today, remember?" he reminds me.

I knew that, but we do sort of slip into our roles, especially when I'm picking him up from a hotel, in the car that I use for work, on a weekday morning. That's where the similarity ends, though, as he has chosen to sit in the passenger seat, and definitely not dressed in work attire. I smile at him as he clicks his seatbelt into place, and take the opportunity while he is distracted to admire him. He looked good last night, but he was still fairly smartly dressed. Today, he is casual, and he looks amazing. He's in jeans and a fitted t-shirt, the weather doesn't call for a jacket, which is handy for my plans. The t-shirt shows his biceps and chest off nicely. I'm not sure how I will be able to keep my eyes off him long enough to drive.

"Where are we going, then? I've been dying to know."

I move out into the traffic after giving the doorman a wave, and throw Edward a leaflet that I'd picked up.

"Kew Gardens?"

"Yeah, I thought this would be a nice change from spending all your life in concrete buildings in cities. It's big, so we can stay there all day if you want. If not, then we can go to a beer garden or something."

He flicks through the leaflet. "It looks nice; it'll be good to get away from the city for a bit. Sometimes it feels like I never see anything green. Good plan, Carlisle."

"I thought it'd be easier to talk there, too, if you wanted?" It's better to put that out there now, so we're not walking round wondering if we should make serious conversation or not.

Edward is quiet for a minute, watching the hustle and bustle of London around us as we drive. We have avoided the worst of rush hour, so I'm not too stressed out by the stop and start traffic. It's not going to take us too long to get there, and we're moving. I don't need anything else adding to my nerves.

"I guess we should talk, you're right. I'm not sure where to start, though."

I grin, "Begin at the beginning, and go on 'til you come to the end; then stop."

"Alice in Wonderland?!"

"Yeah. The kids got the DVD when it came out, so I've been reading the book with them, too." Seth is still a little too young to keep his focus on the book – he interrupts with questions all the time – but Jared is completely into it. He loves reading.

"That makes sense. I didn't have you pegged as a Lewis Carroll fan."

"I could have said the same about you." I can't imagine Edward has the time to read about anything that isn't business-related.

He smiles. "I have a seven-year-old niece. Her nose is almost constantly buried in a book. I don't get to see her much, but we talk on the phone and she tells me all about the books she's reading. I don't always get a chance to read them, but Wikipedia helps me with that. At least I know roughly what she's talking about. "

"Tell me about her?" It's the first time Edward has opened up about his family, and I want him to keep talking. I want him to let me in.

"Her name is Bella. Like I said, she's seven, though she talks like an adult. It's quite disconcerting when you see her, because she's tiny, like my sister. There's this small person who talks like we all do. She's the only kid in the family though, so I guess she was always going to learn from us."

I can't help interrupting. "I hope she didn't learn much language from you, otherwise every other word would be inappropriate."

Edward looks affronted, but I don't retract my statement. He swears a lot; and that's coming from _me_.

"I don't curse that much."

I glance at him with my eyebrow raised, and he starts laughing. "Okay, maybe I do. I'm not usually doing business when I'm around Bella, though, so I'm a little calmer."

"So she's your sister's daughter?" I keep him talking; I'm so intrigued by his life. For so long he was just a businessman, and I tried not to let myself think beyond that. All this information is like a whole new side of him, and I want to discover more.

"Yeah, my younger sister, Alice. She had Bella when she was seventeen, so it was tough for them all at first, but they've done well. Bella is amazing."

"They don't live near you, though?"

"No, Jasper – Alice's husband – works for the company in New York, so they live there. They moved out a couple of years ago."

There's a pause. I'm not sure whether to commiserate with him – I'd be gutted if my nephews moved that far away from me. I'm fairly sure Edward is high up in whatever company he and his brother-in-law work for, so I reckon that if he was set on them staying, he would have blocked the move.

"You've met Jasper."

Edward's statement comes out of nowhere, and pulls me from my thoughts. What the hell does he mean? I'm pretty sure I would remember meeting someone called Jasper.

I try to remember as we pull into the car park. It's still early, and not many people are here yet. I'm glad of that, as it means we can park fairly close. God forbid Edward has to walk further than he needs to. I turn to him to mention that, and then remember that I'm supposed to have met his brother-in-law at some point in my life.

I hope I haven't fucked him. That would be awkward.

"I have?"

"Yeah, about a week before you met me for the first time. He flew out here first, and said that the service you provided was good, so we booked you, too."

"So Jasper was a guinea pig?" I get out of the car and stretch my arms, glad to have some room, and some air. Air con is useful, but it's no substitute for fresh air.

Edward laughs as he walks around the car to meet me. "No, we're not that bothered about car service, in general. Well, we never used to be." He smiles shyly at me, and I can't help grinning back. Fuck, he's cute when he wants to be. "He just said that you were good at your job, you didn't try and make small talk with him when he was busy, but you were polite and helpful."

"Polite and helpful, that's me all over," I agree. I need to remember that one to tell Garrett.

Edward notices my amusement at his words and shakes his head. "You are when you're working." He pushes in front of me and pays for our tickets before I have the chance to stop him. I frown at him, and he shrugs. "I'm supposed to be making things up to you. The least I can do is pay our entry fee."

"But I chose where we're going, I should pay."

"Well, it's too late now, no point in arguing the details." He smiles at me again and pulls the leaflet back out of his pocket. "So, where can I get a decent coffee around here?"

I sigh. "Nowhere opens until ten o'clock, so maybe if we walk to one a bit further away, we will reach it at the right time. That'll save us hanging around."

Edward agrees and we stroll to one of the cafes.

"Is Alice your only sister?" Now that Edward has started talking, I don't want him to stop.

"Yeah, she's a pain in the ass, but we generally get on fairly well. There's a big enough age gap that we could do our own thing when we were growing up, it wasn't like we were fighting over the same toys or anything.

"How about you? You've got a sister too, right? "

"That's right, she's older than me. Only by a couple of years though, and we did used to fight like crazy when we were growing up."

I hold the door of the cafe open for him, and he walks up to order for us, paying before I can, again.

We sit down and he continues with his questions, the tables have turned and I'm not sure I like that.

"What's your sister's name? What are her kids called? How old are they?"

The questions continue and I feel like I'm being interrogated. By the time we have drained our coffees I'm fairly sure he knows everything there possibly is to know about my family.

Once our drinks are done, we decide to wander around the gardens a little. All of the flowers are out as summer is just around the corner, and I take a few photos while I'm there.

"You like taking pictures, hey?"

"I guess I do. I like having a real record of the places I've been. I drive all over the place, and otherwise everywhere would blur together. It's good to show the kids, too. I want them to know that there is more to life than big cities and concrete jungles."

"You'll have to show me some of your pictures sometime. I could do with realising that there's more to life, too." He pauses, glancing around before taking my hand. "Mind you, you've done a good job of showing me that so far."

He doesn't drop my hand as we keep walking, and I give it a quick squeeze and grin at him.

"There are a few photos still on my camera, but I tend to keep the memory card pretty tidy, unsurprisingly. I'll show you my laptop sometime – they're all on there."

"Are they in well-labelled, orderly files?" He's laughing, and I shove into him a little to shut him up. I need to keep him away from Garrett or the teasing will be relentless.

"Well, when you can't find pictures from a specific moment from the holiday you took over Easter 2006, don't come crying to me. Organisation saves time and stress."

Edward looks suitably chastised. "I was only teasing you. Sorry, Carlisle."

I roll my eyes. "I was joking... well... I wasn't. It really does save time and stress, but I wasn't annoyed. We need to get past the apologising thing or this is never going to work. You've met Garrett, you saw how we are. That's me. I like winding people up, and I like people winding me up. Apologise for the big stuff, I'll let you know if there's anything else you need to be sorry for when it happens. Trust me. You know I'm not backwards in coming forwards."

His thumb runs over the inside of my wrist. "I had noticed," he tells me, with a smile.

We decide to head towards the nearest cafe so that we can have some lunch. It's been a long time since breakfast – which was only a coffee for me – and I can't imagine Edward had anything more substantial.

The cafe is still fairly quiet, despite it being lunchtime, and the gardens have been getting steadily busier as we have walked around. We must have beaten the lunchtime rush. Edward is happy as the service is efficient, and they have time to cater to his every whim.

Neither of us eat much, I think we are both still quite nervous, and we make small talk while we pick at our food. I'm desperate to know what he thought of last night, and since I have just promised to be upfront with him, I ask.

"It was good. Garrett is, uh, quite a character. I think it went well, though. Better than I was expecting it to, at least," he admits.

"Yeah, me too. I'm glad Garrett didn't scare you off."

"He was just looking out for you; I can't blame him for that." Edward pauses, and I'm learning that I need to just wait for him to say these things on his own. I slowly chew my sandwich and let him figure his words out. Which he does. "I might have wanted to push him away when he was rubbing his hands on you on your way out. I don't really have a leg to stand on with that, though."

I laugh softly. Garrett was right: he was jealous. I have a feeling I will owe my best mate thirty pounds by the end of the day.

"Garrett did that to provoke exactly that reaction out of you. This is about working out if we have a future, so we don't need to keep looking back. You've admitted you fucked up, I've accepted your apology – let's move forward."

Edward smiles, relieved it's been put to bed completely. "Okay. The future. But, uh, before we look completely to the future, did you sleep with Garrett last night?"

Thirty quid down the drain. Fucking Garrett and his stupid Edward insights.

"We slept in the same bed, yeah. Nothing happened, though, of course." I'm not sure whether to tell him about the shower thing, but I better had. Garrett will just bring it up at an inopportune moment further down the line, and it'll cause more stress than it ever needs to.

I take a deep breath and hope that this doesn't completely freak Edward out. "In the interests of full disclosure, he did get into the shower with me this morning, too. That's not a regular occurrence, but it's not entirely unheard of, either. We're just... comfortable around each other."

I've been staring at the table-top during my confession, but I look up to meet Edward's eyes as I finish, desperate to read his reaction. He is unusually quiet. His eyes are dark, and I'm not quite sure what that means, as his brow furrows and he looks away from my gaze.

Eventually, he speaks. "So what happened in the shower then?"

"Nothing. He just squirted me with some shower gel, rubbed it in a little, made a few inappropriate comments and then I pushed him out of the shower." Is that nothing? It felt like nothing, but saying it out loud kind of makes it feel like something.

Edward goes quiet again, and I wait for him to process his thoughts. I feel a bit sick, but I sip at my drink to give me something to do with my hands.

"He rubbed it in? Where was it?" His cheeks are a little red as he asks. I'm starting to get the feeling he isn't asking out of jealousy.

"Just on my chest and arms. Is this turning you on?"

Edward's eyes dart around the room. "Jesus. Keep it down."

"Tell me and I will."

"Uh, yes? I think... maybe. I don't know."

I grin at him. I wonder if I can keep my money if he isn't actually jealous about what happened.

"Don't laugh at me," he grumbles.

I explain about Garrett's bet, and he seems happier. "You talked about me?"

It's my turn to be embarrassed now. "Well, yeah."

"What else were you saying, apart from making bets about my being jealous, of course?" He sips his drink and leans back in his chair, much happier now that he has the upper hand.

I'm not sure he really wants to know, though.

"We talked about if you managed to change his perception of you last night. He wasn't your biggest fan before you met – in case you hadn't noticed." Edward grins wryly, but doesn't comment. "You must have done something right last night, though, because I'm fairly sure his opinion is starting to change. Slowly."

"He's still not an Edward fan though?"

"Well, no. He thinks I'm letting you off too easily. He's fairly convinced you're going to decide you like girls again."

I'm quite worried about that too, but bringing it up to Edward and blaming Garrett seems like a good plan.

Edward sits forward in his seat again, as I refuse to meet his eyes.

"Hey." He tilts my chin up with his finger until I look at him. "I can see why Garrett would be worried. I told him last night, though – and I'm telling you now – that I'm in this for real. I still don't know how this will work, and I'm not saying I'm going to be the best, uh, boyfriend in the world. If that's what you want for us? But I won't be running to anyone else – male or female – if we decide to make a go of this."

He looks around us. The cafe is beginning to fill with people, and I can tell he is fairly uncomfortable doing this where we can be overheard. It's not really the place for a conversation like this.

I stand up. "Come on, let's walk and talk."

We put our trays back on the rack, and as we head outside, I grab his hand and pull him towards the treetop walkway.

As we get closer, I realise I'd better check that this is okay. I don't want to have to deal with him hyperventilating halfway round. "You're not afraid of heights, right?"

He shakes his head, and we climb the stairs to the walkway. It's peaceful at the top. You feel separated from everyone else, and looking out over the gardens makes you feel like you have more perspective on things. We're quiet as we walk a little way in, pausing as I take a few photos every now and then. I get a nice picture of Edward looking out at the view; he doesn't notice me taking it, and I'm not sure I should have, but I couldn't quite help myself. He looks so relaxed, and it reminds me of our trip away.

I step up beside him as he leans against the rail. He continues to look at the view, and I rub his lower back gently with my hand. I'm not sure what he's thinking, but I don't want to interrupt.

"Do you want to try this?"

His question comes out of the blue, and it takes me a while to reply. "Try what? A relationship?"

"Yeah." He turns to the side so that we are facing each other. His arm is leaning on the rail, as is mine, and he links our fingers together gently, smiling sheepishly at me.

"If you are completely clear it's what you want – which I think you are – and we can figure out a way to make it work, then yeah, I'd like to try."

I'm not sure if I'm setting myself up for complete heartbreak again, but Edward has convinced me that he's in this for real. Garrett is going to kick my ass when he realises I lasted until lunchtime on the first fucking day we spent together.

Edward steps closer, his free hand resting on my waist. "It is what I want. It's such a big thing; I wouldn't be going into it without being a hundred percent clear. I know I fucked up before – and I'm so sorry about what I did – but I promise you, it won't happen again."

We've been over what happened enough times now. I need him to stop trying to make up for it, or I'm going to push him off this walkway.

"Next time you freak out about things, you talk to me, okay? If I'm asleep, well, just hold on to your freak out until I wake up."

He nods, and his hand tightens on my t-shirt as he smiles at me.

"We live in different countries, though, so one of us being asleep when the other one wants to talk could happen a lot," I point out.

"Yeah, the Atlantic Ocean is a massive pain in my ass right now," Edward laughs. "I think we can do this, though. I'm over here a lot for business, and I can always do what I'm doing now and spend a couple of extra days here. In between that, we can Skype, and I can call you. There's always good old-fashioned e-mail, too."

"I suppose so. How often is 'often,' though?" I really don't like the idea of having a boyfriend I see once every few months.

Edward's thumb has worked its way under my t-shirt, and it's making it hard to focus on his reply. "I think I can swing it to be once a month. We have a branch of the company here in London, and I can say I need to check that the company is providing the same service in all countries. Or some other bullshit like that. No one questions me, it's fine. Well, no one except you that is."

"I won't be kicking up a fuss about you being here, so you don't need to worry about that."

"What about Tanya? Will she get suspicious if I'm, uh, booking you all the time? I can't imagine she would be entirely pleased with you if she knew what was going on."

Truth be told, I think Tanya will be happy I was keeping Edward sweet enough to continue to use the service.

"Tanya won't notice. She loves that she's got business from you, and she knows how particular you are about things. I doubt she's surprised that you always book me, if you're happy with the service. You've been pretty demanding since day one."

He laughs, "I just know how I like things done. Remind you of anyone?"

I roll my eyes. "I can't think who you mean."

Pulling me even closer, he rests his head near my shoulder, kissing my neck. "It's okay," he whispers, "I can deal with a perfectionist."

If I thought his thumb was distracting, well, his lips are a whole new kettle of fish. "Are you sure? Garrett thinks I'm the most frustrating man on the planet."

His lips tease along my jaw line. People pass by us but he doesn't stop, only pauses while he talks. "Garrett stepped out of the shower midway through washing you this morning. Clearly, Garrett is an idiot."

I laugh, but I stay on track, just about. My OCD tendencies annoy _me _sometimes, so I can't imagine how frustrating I am to be around. "Are you sure? I'm a pain in the ass, sometimes even more so than the Atlantic Ocean."

Edward doesn't care at all; clearly he has found something far more fun to do than talk about my cleaning obsession. "I can deal with it. I'll tell you if you annoy me, don't worry."

I don't doubt that, somehow.

It turns out I don't think my OCD is important enough to discuss any more either, as Edward kisses his way up to my mouth. He pauses before his lips meet mine and asks, "Is this okay?" I nod, and he closes the gap between us. His hands are locked in place at my sides, clinging onto my t-shirt like it's a lifeline, and I run my fingers along his arms, trying to encourage him to move. He gets the hint, and before I know it, I'm being pulled towards him until I can feel his body heat against mine.

He spins us around so that my back is against the railing and kisses me hungrily. I'm distracted by his mouth, and it takes me a while to notice that his kiss is so forceful I am now leaning backwards over the barrier. My hands go to his chest, and I push him slightly away from me. I'm sorry to end the kiss, but tumbling backwards off a walkway is not the way I want to die. Even if it was a result of Edwards kisses.

"You're not scared of heights, are you?" Edward asks, grinning at me.

"No. I'm scared of being kissed to death." Seriously, who knew it was such a dangerous pastime.

He laughs, twining his fingers with mine, and tugging me along the walkway with him. "It'd be a great way to go."

"I'd like to see you explaining exactly how it happened to Garrett. He'd kick your ass."

Edward stops walking, and looks at me. "You think Garrett could kick my ass?"

Whoops. "Uh, maybe?"

"I could totally take Garrett down."

This is veering weirdly close to the 'sex with Edward in a closet' conversation I had with Gar a few months ago, and it's doing nothing for my concentration.

"I'm sure you could, dear," I say, deliberately adopting a patronising tone. I even pat him on the arm for good measure.

He sighs, and begins to walk again. "Well, in that case, maybe we should stop kissing. I don't want Garrett to have to kick my ass." I haven't followed him, and he stops to hold his hand back for me. "We can still hold hands, though. That way I can make sure you definitely don't fall."

An elderly couple are passing us by, and as they approach, we hear the woman whisper to her husband – loudly – "Aren't those boys sweet? Look at them, Eric."

Eric doesn't give a shit about how sweet we are. In fact, I'm fairly sure Eric is afraid of heights, given the fact that his gaze doesn't waver from dead ahead of him. Whatever's up with him, Eric doesn't want to stop to look at me and Edward.

His loss. We _are_ sweet.

His wife, on the other hand, smiles widely at us as they pass. "You boys are adorable," she tells us. Then, she spots the camera in my hand, "Do you want me to take your picture? People as cute as you two should always be caught on film, or whatever it is that you capture people on these days."

I look at Edward, and he smiles back at me, so I hand the camera over to her. Eric is not impressed, his gaze never dips below the horizon, and he is definitely not interested in taking our picture.

After explaining how to work the camera, we step back against the railing again. Edward throws his arm around my shoulders, and I wrap mine around his waist. "I won't kiss you, so don't worry about falling off," he whispers to me.

I roll my eyes, and slap his chest with my free hand. "If you don't shut up, I'll push you off."

"Are you two going to argue all day, or can I take this picture? I'm happy to stay and watch you, but I'm fairly sure my husband is going to faint if I don't get him on solid ground soon."

Eric doesn't even react to her words. He's looking a little green, now.

We apologise, and smile at the camera. She takes a few pictures, and gives us both a kiss on the cheek, whispering "I think you boys look great together," before hurrying off with Eric.

Edward laughs as we walk off. "I don't think I've ever been called sweet or adorable by anyone who isn't a direct relative before."

"Yeah, me neither." I scrunch my nose a little; I'm not sure I like being cute.

"We're making each other soft." I raise my eyebrows at Edwards phrasing and he stumbles to retract his statement. "Not like that. Definitely not like that."

I laugh. "Well, that's always good to know."

~-DTD-~

By seven o'clock, we are back in Edward's suite, eating room service pizza and lazing on his couch. We invited Emmett, but he has found another bar to watch the football in, and is content with that. I think Garrett is going to meet him there, so at least he won't be alone.

Walking round all day is completely exhausting. Kew was beautiful, though, and I resolve to take the kids back there when they are out of school for the summer. It might tire the buggers out a bit.

Once our meals are finished, Edward throws his arm around my shoulder as we watch some mindless rubbish on TV. It's so easy, so comfortable, and I wonder how he ever doubted that this was right.

It doesn't take long before his lips are teasing my neck again. "Will you stay here tonight?"

I'm so fucking tempted. I haven't brought any spare clothes with me for that reason; I thought it might stop me giving in so easily, but I couldn't care less about having to wear crumpled clothes right now.

"Okay."

He pulls back. "Really?"

The surprise in his voice makes me laugh; he was clearly expecting a fight. "Yeah. Have room service send up spare toothbrushes, 'cause otherwise you won't be getting a good morning kiss until after we've gone back to my place tomorrow."

"We?"

"Yeah, I thought tomorrow I would show you where I live, cook you a meal, that sort of thing. I think Garrett will probably gate crash our evening, but we can spend the day together."

Edward smiles. "That sounds good – really good actually."

"The day, or Garrett gate crashing?"

"I'm sure the whole day will be fun. Speaking of Garrett, why don't we grab a shower and you can show me exactly what happened this morning. I need a practical demonstration. I can't have Garrett lathering you up better than I can."

Before I know it, we are both in his – huge – shower. Edward has his shower gel in his hand and a look of determination on his face.

He squirts some into his hand and then places the bottle back on the shelf – he has points on Garrett already.

"Where did he start?"

"My chest."

Edward leans forward and, after rubbing the gel between his hands for a while, he starts to move his hands in circles on my chest. I lean my head against the shower wall and groan. "Like this?" he asks.

"His was like that, but there was less groaning involved. And slightly fewer persistent erections," I say, looking down.

Edward laughs, thank God, and asks me where Garrett went next.

"My arms."

His long fingers trail over my muscles to my hands and back up again, repeating the motion over and over. He varies his touches; some are light, while at other times it feels like he never wants to let me go. As his fingers reach mine on one pass, he takes my hands and presses them against the wall. He seems to like me like this.

It's a position that's growing on me, too.

"I hope Garrett didn't quite go this far," he tells me, as he dips his lips to mine. His chest is pressed to mine, the gel making him slide against me slightly, and I really, really, want my hands back.

Edward pulls back, and I inform him that Garrett definitely didn't go that far. "I pushed him out of the shower at this point, actually. I'm not sure if we're still role-playing me and Garrett or not?" I start to reach behind Edward to open the shower door and he grabs my hands again.

"We're just us now," he informs me.

"Oh right, so where would Edward go next?" It's so different to see him like this. Last time we were anywhere near naked with each other, he was so hesitant and nervous. This is amazing.

His hands let go of mine, but I'm not interested in winding him up, now, and I run them over his back. His fingers slowly trail a path down and finally, he takes hold of my cock.

I almost knock myself out slamming my head back against the shower wall.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"More than okay." I'm not going to last long at all.

He is tentative in his movements, but my reactions are increasing his confidence by the minute. Soon he is placing kisses wherever he can reach while I try desperately not to come too quickly.

There's not a lot I can do about it in the end. Edward being here like this with me, in addition to spending all day with him and his teasing touches, push me over the edge with an almost embarrassing degree of speed.

As I try to get my breath back, Edward continues to place kisses on my neck. He is hard and grinding against me slightly, and I can't leave him hanging.

I spin him round. "Don't smack your head against the wall, it hurts like a bitch," I warn him.

He nods in understanding, and I smile at him before dropping to my knees.

As soon as I take him into my mouth, I hear a yelp, and I look up to see Edward rubbing the back of his head. I consider making some sarcastic remark, but I figure taking his mind off it is probably kinder. He has just given me an amazing orgasm, without any prompting.

If I thought I came quickly, well, Edward removes any worries I had about that. I don't even have time for my knees to get sore, which is a bonus.

The best thing about doing this in the shower is the fact there is no clean up afterwards. No, the best thing about doing this in Edward's shower is the fact that the hot water doesn't run out. We keep close as we rinse off, before falling into bed still in our towels.

We're both exhausted, but I have the presence of mind to pull some boxers on and take our towels back into the bathroom before we finally pass out.

Edward falls asleep first, his head on my chest and his arm flung over my waist. It's quite reminiscent of how Garrett sleeps, but I decide against telling him that.

I press a kiss to the top of his head, before flicking the TV off and settling down myself. It's tricky to do with Edward asleep on me, but I manage it eventually. Like everything with Edward, even though it seems stupidly difficult, the payoff is worth it. He stirs a little and drops a quick, sleepy kiss on my chest.

"G'night, Carlisle."

"Night, Edward."


	14. Chapter 14

**It's Sunday somewhere.  
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**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
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**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. I've been tinkering again, though, so all mistakes are mine.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
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* * *

I wake up the next morning to small kisses being placed on my chest. The sun is streaming underneath the curtains but, in June, daylight is no real indication that it's time to get up. We fell asleep late last night, and I'm still exhausted. I'm not even sure if Edward is trying to wake me, or if he is just exploring a little. I decide to keep my breathing even and let him get on with it without disturbing him. His hand is trailing up and down my side, pausing occasionally when his mouth distracts him from what he's doing. I try not to react to what he's doing – beyond what is happening to my cock, of course – but I can't help freezing when I feel him toy with the waistband of my boxer briefs.

"You can move, Carlisle." He turns to face me, his green eyes shining with far too much enthusiasm for this time of the morning.

I groan, closing my eyes again. "It's too early to move. All the important bits of me are moving."

"I can feel that." He rolls his hips lazily against mine. He's such a fucking morning person and, as much as I'm enjoying this, I wish it were slightly later in the day. I keep my eyes shut, not wanting the light to invade them and he laughs. "Aren't you enjoying this? I can stop?"

"No, no, I am enjoying it. I just don't like the sun burning my retinas at unnatural times of the morning."

"Carlisle, it's nine o'clock," he laughs.

"Shit, really?" I open one eye, squinting at Edward.

"Yes, it's past nine o'clock if we're being accurate. I let you sleep in; I was awake at seven." He continues to place distracting kisses on my collarbone, and I'm rapidly losing any conversational skills I have.

"What the fuck did you do for two hours?"

"Watched you sleep."

"Uh..." I'm not really sure what to say to that.

"I'm kidding. I did some work. I will admit to occasionally peeking at you while you were sleeping, though, if that's acceptable?"

"Totally acceptable. Did you jerk off while you were peeking?" I'm too sleepy to bother filtering what I say. This is me; he can take it or leave it.

"Does it feel like I jerked off?" He presses up against me, and I feel exactly how hard he is.

"Maybe you just have an incredible recovery time," I offer. Both of my eyes are open now, enjoying this playful side to Edward.

"I wish," he chuckles. "I'm not seventeen any more, although you do seem to have increased my sexual appetite, to be fair. The morning after isn't often on the cards, especially after a late night."

"It's my animal magnetism. Speaking of which, hold that thought; I need to brush my teeth. Don't move."

I roll him onto his back and hop out of bed, running quickly into the bathroom.

When I get back to the bedroom, he's exactly how I left him on the bed.

"I didn't think you were one for following orders."

Edward laughs, "It depends what I get out of it."

Lifting the sheet up, I crawl back into bed next to him, and he moves so he's hovering over me again. He's so nervous and hesitant when it comes to talking about our relationship, but, this week, when we're like this, he's been completely the opposite. It's a bizarre thing to get my head around, and I'm never sure if he's looking for me to take the lead or not.

He is all over me, his hands teasing my arms and chest while he drops kisses onto my neck. I lie back, letting him do whatever he wants – I still haven't woken up properly, and what he's doing feels too good to worry about interrupting him.

Slowly he kissess his way back down my chest and stomach, his hands tugging my underwear down as he goes. I'm fairly confident I know what his plan is, and I run my fingers through his hair.

"You don't have to," I assure him, as he looks up at me.

He nods, but doesn't reply, choosing instead to kiss my inner thighs. He's driving me crazy, and I move my hands to the sheets, so that I don't push him further than he wants to go. It's really fucking difficult, though. I want this.

Finally, he takes my cock into his mouth. He is tentative, but everything he does feels amazing, regardless. His free hand runs up and down my inner thigh teasing me further.I'm desperate to beg him to stop teasing me, but I'm fairly sure he's not doing it on purpose, I think he's just trying to figure out exactly what to do. So I keep my mouth shut, and express how much I'm enjoying it in groans. I can tell it's the first time he's ever done this, but once he finds a rhythm I am gone. Technique be danmed, he's doing more than enough to pull me over the edge.

He glances up at me and I tug at his hair to get him to move; I'm fairly sure he would appreciate the warning. He moves away just in time, and by the time I'm coherent again, he's lying next to me with a smug grin on his face.

"C'mere you." I pull him down to kiss me. "I'll reciprocate in a minute, when I've got my breath back."

He laughs, rolling onto his back. "What are we doing today, then?"

"I thought I'd take you to see where I live. There's a nice park nearby. I haven't planned much, really; I figured we could just see where the day takes us. This evening Gar and Emmett are coming round to watch the football, remember?"

When we made the plans with Garrett and Emmett, I thought it would be a nice idea to get everyone together again. Now I'm not so sure I want to share my time with Edward, but it's too late.

"Seeing where the day takes us sounds amazing. I'm not used to having unstructured days; I'm looking forward to it."

~-DTD-~

All my plans to show Edward around the area where I live are shot to hell the minute we get into my flat.

Once again, we end up lying awkwardly on a couch when there's a bed less than thirty feet away from us. I don't know what it is about Edward and couches, but I'm going to be sending him my inevitable chiropractor's invoice; this shit isn't good for my neck. Edward is lying over me, kissing me thoroughly and, all of a sudden, my neck doesn't bother me at all.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and Edward's eyes widen for a second before he realises what it is.

Laughing at his reaction, I pull my phone out of my pocket, making sure I brush my fingers against the front of his jeans to tease him a little.

I check the caller ID and grimace. "It's Esme, I should probably take this."

Edward groans as he lifts himself off me, but takes hold of my free hand as he sits back on the sofa, trying to compose himself.

"What's up?" My greeting to Esme is probably not the friendliest but she deserves it, after interrupting us.

"Carlisle, Leah's called in sick to work, so I need to go in and cover her shift. Can you pick the boys up from school and look after them 'til I can get away?"

"Why are they at school on a Saturday? Torture?"

"It's not a school thing; it's a sports club that's run from the school. I've told you this before."

I hesitate. I don't really know what to do with Edward if I have the kids; it's probably a bit soon to introduce them. Sending him back to his hotel to hide isn't a very appealing idea, though.

Esme jumps in before I can even start. "I know you're not working today, Carlisle, so you can easily do it. I'll bring you back dinner if you just get them for me, it'll only be for a couple of hours."

"Can you make it something I can freeze?" Food will always tempt me, but I'm having takeaway and beer tonight with the guys; I'm not wasting Esme's food on Garrett.

"Why?"

"I've got a few people coming over for the football." It's not a lie – per se.

"Oh, yeah I guess I can make it freeze-able for you. Can you get the kids then? I need to get back to work."

I don't appear to have much of a choice. "Yeah, I can."

"Thanks, Carlisle. You're my favourite brother."

She hangs up and I look at Edward apologetically.

"What's wrong?"

"I need to pick Jared and Seth up from their school; Esme is stuck at work. I'll need to bring them back here, too."

Edward sits up a little on the sofa. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No. But do you really want to meet my family already?"

He laughs. "They're only kids, Carlisle."

"Kids are sometimes harder work than adults. Added to which, Esme will be picking them up from here."

"Oh." The reality has hit him, I think.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to. The kids will be fine though, let them play some games on your phone and you'll be a friend for life. By the time Esme gets here, Gar and Emmett will have arrived, too. So it won't be a major thing that you're around." I'm kind of hoping I can keep Esme on the other side of my door, to be honest.

"I'll stay. When do you have to go?"

I check the time on my phone and grimace. "Fairly soon, actually; their school is a while away."

Edward nods, and squeezes my hand before standing up. "Well, let's get this place tidied up and then you can get going. Can I borrow your laptop while you're out? I could use the time to do some work."

I wasn't planning on leaving him here alone, actually – who knows what snooping he will do while I'm out – but he has endeared himself to me with the offer to tidy up, so I let it go.

He clears up our glasses and plates from lunch, and takes them through into the kitchen, washing them and passing them to me to dry.

"I didn't ever think I'd see you washing your own dishes." I really didn't. Up until this moment, I've been fairly convinced that he employs people to do absolutely everything for him.

"It's not a regular occurrence. I'm just trying to get laid," he informs me as he rinses the soap bubbles from his hands.

"Cleaning and tidying is the way to my heart, you're right." I laugh and put away the last of the crockery and then pull Edward to me, my hands on his ass. "A nice ass helps, too," I tell him, giving it a squeeze – just to emphasize my point.

He smiles and kisses me gently, pulling back when I try to deepen it.

"Don't you need to pick the kids up?"

Sighing, I check the time again, and realise I really do need to get going.

I grab my laptop out of my bedroom and log Edward on before I go. I sometimes let Garrett use it when he's here, and a few months ago he changed the wallpaper on my desktop to a picture of him kissing my cheek. It was a photo we took early last year. Garrett had come out to a gay club with me, and we took the photo to ward off someone who wouldn't leave me alone.

I haven't changed my desktop wallpaper back.

Edward looks between the screen and me a couple of times, before finally commenting on what he's seen. "Nice photo."

"Thanks," I grin at him. If he's still insecure about my friendship with Garrett, he needs to get over it quickly. This is how we behave, and he probably needs to get used to it. The way he reacted to my shower story yesterday makes me pause as I grab my car keys. "You can have a copy of it, if you want? For personal use."

He laughs, but blushes and concentrates on the laptop screen. I'm not sure if he's started up the internet or if he's still looking at the photo, but whatever it is, it's keeping his attention. He keeps his eyes down as he speaks, "I'd rather have one of the two of us."

Making my way over to him, I tilt his chin up and kiss him on the lips, murmuring, "I'm sure we can arrange that."

With that, I leave him to his work and go to get the kids.

They are full of excitement when I pick them up. Summer sports are on the agenda, and Seth has been playing tennis, while Jared's group has been practising cricket.

I can think of nothing worse than trying to teach children the finer details of sports.

The boys chatter on excitedly as I drive, and I finally interrupt them to warn them that Edward will be at the house.

"Is he your boyfriend, Uncle Carlisle?" Jared asks.

I knew that question was coming, but I still have no idea how to reply.

"Not yet. He still needs to convince me that he's worthy of me."

That probably wasn't the way to answer.

"What does worthy mean?" I should know better than to use words that aren't used on kids TV around Seth.

"It means that he has to prove to Uncle Carlisle that he won't steal all his money," Jared informs him.

A minute passes while I try to figure out what he means. "I think you're thinking of 'trust-worthy,' Jared. It's close though, it means he needs to show me that he'll be a good boyfriend."

Jared's eyes light up. "Do you set him challenges? Can we come up with some?"

"Erm, sure, why not. I need you two to figure out if he is good fun to be around. Think you can handle that?"

They seem pleased with their task, and I hope Edward is okay with them. My nephews mean a lot to me, and Edward needs to get used to them being around. I hadn't planned on it being this soon, though.

As it turns out, I have absolutely nothing to worry about. Edward's high-tech phone wins the boys over from the minute they see it. He is good with them, never worrying that they are going to damage the phone, and guiding them gently through some of the games. He makes sure they are both included, praising them when they do well and giving them tips when they get stuck. The boys talk incessantly at him and to his credit, he doesn't show any signs of weariness at all. I know I'd be telling them to shut-up by now.

I make them a snack and a drink each and drag them away from Edward for a minute, to eat.

"You okay with them?" I ask, pulling him into my arms.

He nods, looking towards them. They are currently the picture of brotherly love – fighting over the remote control.

"Boys, watch your food and drinks. If anything gets spilt you're cleaning it up," I warn them.

"They're sweet. They're a lot more boisterous and chatty than Bella is, but it's good. I can imagine you have good fun with them outdoors. Bella just wants to get back to her books all the time. She's adorable, but sometimes I just want to play football with her, you know?"

I can't imagine being around a kid who wasn't constantly moving around. Jared has been an absolute monkey since he was able to crawl, and Seth is the same. I'm worried they'll be climbing the walls by the time Esme gets here, even though they've been outdoors all afternoon.

"I'm sure the boys would be more than happy for you to take them to the park and play football sometime."

He smiles at me, his hand cupping my face. "You mean, in the future?"

"Yeah."

"So we'll be doing this again?" His thumb runs over my cheek and I have to take a minute to figure out what he's asking.

"Oh, well...We're on the right path to be doing this again – let's just leave it at that for now." I don't want to talk about the future until I know how we're going to combat the fact we live in different continents.

He nods, stepping back from me and heading through to sit with the kids. We really need to have this conversation, and I feel terrible for leaving him hanging, but it needs to wait until it's just the two of us. We work well together, but the distance between us is a huge issue, and I'm not entirely sure how we can bridge that gap.

I'm hopeful that Edward has some solutions.

A crash comes from the lounge, and I decide that thinking about the future needs to take a back seat to trying not to murder my nephews.

~-DTD-~

Garrett bursts through the front door of my apartment, carrying way too much beer for four people. Emmett trails behind him carrying even more – Garrett collected him on the way here.

"Hey sprogs!" Garrett greets the kids as he walks straight to the fridge to store the drinks.

"Uncle Garrett!" Jared and Seth rush towards him, abandoning whatever game they were playing on Edward's phone. Garrett is ridiculous and teaches them pranks, so he is their hero.

"Uncle?" Edward mouths to me. I shrug in response.

"What boring stuff have you been doing with Carlisle then?" Garrett asks. "Has he been making you do homework? Alphabetize his DVDs? Clean his floors?"

My floors are spotless and my DVDs are already alphabetized, but I choose not to tell Garrett this.

"No, but I've tried extra hard not to spill my drink today," Seth informs him.

Garrett grins at me. "Training them up already, Carlisle?"

"Shut up."

"Uncle Carlisle, you shouldn't tell people to shut up. It's not nice."

"Sorry, Seth. Come on; let's watch some TV or something." I glare at Garrett as I usher the kids back out of the room. I let them choose a DVD, even though they probably won't see the end of it before Esme arrives. It'll keep them quiet for the time being. It'll also keep them off my case about swearing – it's not something I can control around my best friend.

When I get back into the kitchen Garrett is cracking open a beer for everyone. "How long are the kids here for? There's a game on right now, you know?"

"Mate, if you can persuade them to stop watching Harry Potter, you can put the football on. I'm fairly sure they won't do it though, even for you, Garrett."

"I could watch it on your laptop." He passes Edward a beer, and obviously notes the slight blush on his cheeks at the mention of my computer. "Have you seen Carlisle's wallpaper, Edward? Good isn't it?"

Emmett is glancing at my walls, clearly confused, and I shake my head at him when he meets my eyes. It's not worth explaining. He looks between us all, shakes his head, and heads out to sit with the kids. I grin as I hear him enthuse about the film to the boys – they will lap that up.

My thoughts are brought back into the room as Edward replies to Garrett. "I've seen better."

I smile at his response, my hand trailing lightly over his back.

Garrett is one step ahead as always, though. "Oh, so you checked out his internet history, too?"

I can feel the colour drain from my cheeks. I don't use private browsing; the kids have their own log-on so I never saw the need. Now, I'm wishing I did.

Fortunately, Edward shakes his head. "I was working; I didn't have time to snoop."

Garrett walks past us – presumably off to try to persuade the kids that football is more interesting than Harry Potter. Judging by the random shouts of spells from the room, though, he may have more trouble persuading Emmett than Jared and Seth.

Garrett pats Edward's shoulder as he passes. "Oh, Edward, there is always time to snoop, especially when it comes to finding out what people look at on the internet."

Edward tilts his head at me and grins. "What would I find on your laptop, then?"

"Cute animal pictures?"

Edward's eyes widen.

"I mean you'd find porn. Lots and lots of naked men. I don't get off by looking at animals, Jesus."

He laughs, and pulls me into his arms. It's nice to feel him this relaxed when Garrett is around; I know he's still worried about what my best mate thinks of him. His relaxed state doesn't last long, however, as there is a knock at my door.

"That's Esme," I tell him. He swallows nervously, but nods, releasing me from his hold.

"Boys, go and get your bags, that's your mum at the door." They both groan at having to leave the film, but do as they're told. Garrett answers the door for me, presumably so that Edward doesn't have very long to get ready.

Esme comes into the kitchen and places something delicious-looking in my freezer before greeting me.

"Hi, Carlisle. Thanks for taking the kids, were they well behaved?"

"Yeah, they were lovely. Although they've been in the lounge with Garrett for a while, so I apologise in advance if he's taught them anything he shouldn't have done."

"Hey! I teach them nothing but rainbows and sunshine."

"You taught us how to make fart noises with our armpits, Uncle Garrett," Jared points out.

Edward and I both burst out laughing, and Garrett groans. Esme hits him over the head before turning to Edward, her eyes sweeping his body. "Who's this?"

"This is Edward. Hands off," I warn her. Seth comes barrelling into the kitchen then, hugging Esme's legs. "Right, you lot. Stop cluttering up my kitchen and get out of my flat."

Esme ushers the kids out, whispering to me as she walks past. "I'm not letting you off the hook. I want to know what's going on. And who's that on the sofa?"

I ignore her. "Bye kids. Be good for your mum, and don't do anything Uncle Garrett taught you to."

"Bye, Uncle Carlisle," they chorus as they race to press the button to call the lift.

"Bye, Es." I start to shut the door on her and she shoots her hand out to stop me.

"I mean it, little brother. I still know how to torture you. Or I could ask Garrett, I'm sure he'd be willing to tell me."

A shout comes from inside the flat. "Cook for me and I'll do anything you want, Esme."

"See?"

I roll my eyes. "I'll meet up with you next week and we can talk then. Now go, before your children ruin the building."

The door shuts and I lean against it for a minute, closing my eyes. I feel like I've run a marathon already, and I've still got an evening with Garrett and Edward to survive. I open my eyes again to see Edward standing there holding my beer. I kiss his cheek, taking the bottle from him and taking a swig.

"You ready for this?"

"Ready to spend the evening with Garrett?"

"No, I mean ready to watch football with those two again. It could end up being a long night," I warn him.

"It's fine. I'll ignore the football and concentrate on you."

A knock at the door interrupts our conversation, and I open it, knowing one of the kids will have left something behind.

It's Seth.

"Edward is good fun, Uncle Carlisle. I forgot to tell you. He is worthy." With that, he zooms off back to the lift.

I turn round slowly, knowing that Edward will have heard that.

"Worthy?"

"Er, yeah? Congratulations!" I smile at him, hoping he's not annoyed.

"Do I get a prize?" He is stalking towards me, and I lean back against the wall. There's a hungry look in his eyes, and it's doing nothing for my self-control.

"If you want one."

"Of course I do; what moron wouldn't want a prize? I want to stay here tonight, and I want you naked the minute Em and Garrett leave." He presses me up against the wall as he speaks, reducing my brain to mush.

"Okay," I squeak.

He drops a kiss on my neck and walks into the lounge, leaving me to compose myself.

I grab my takeaway menus out of a drawer in the kitchen and follow Edward through. Emmett is on the chair, and Garrett has sat himself right in the middle of the sofa, while Edward is squashed at one side.

I glare at Garrett. "Move, dickhead."

"I'm quite comfy here."

Not in the mood to deal with his bullshit, I sit down next to him and dig my fingers into his side. It's a trick I learnt when we were kids, and it still works now. He shoots up into the air with a yelp, and I scoot along the sofa to sit next to Edward. Garrett sits back down on my lap and I shove him to the side, aiming an apologetic grin at Edward.

"I see how it is," Garrett grumbles. "You don't even want to cuddle now Edward's here."

I roll my eyes and turn the sound up on the TV. There's not long to go in this game, and I hand Edward the takeaway menus to read, so he doesn't have to feign interest in a sport he doesn't care about.

"You not cooking for us, Carlisle?" Garrett asks.

"I thought I'd spare you the horror."

"Thanks man, I appreciate it. Where are we ordering from, then?"

I glance at Edward. "I'm not sure, depends if we can all agree on somewhere. If not, then we'll have to figure something else out. Edward and I seem to spend half our time eating pizza, though, so I've not brought those menus out."

"What if I really want pizza?"

"Garrett, you hate pizza. Shut the fuck up."

"I'll eat anything," Edward declares, passing the menus to Emmett.

Garrett snorts. "So I've heard. Pizza, curry, pasta, male, female – doesn't matter to you, you'll have anything."

I punch his leg.

Edward doesn't rise to the bait, choosing instead to drain his bottle of beer. He stands up. "Anyone want another?"

Everyone accepts his offer, and he disappears into the kitchen. It can't be easy for him, having to deal with Garrett needling at him all the time, especially when he's used to everyone scrambling to please him. It's hard to know what to do, though, because Garrett is only looking out for me. I can't blame him for his digs at Edward, when I would be doing exactly the same if it were Garrett in this situation.

"At least try to be civil, Garrett."

"If he pays for the food, I'll consider it."

Edward walks back into the room with four beers, and hands them out, before answering Garrett's request. "Well, you provided the beer, so it's only fair I provide the food."

"Aren't there any more expensive takeaways near, Carlisle? I'm sure Edward can afford better than greasy Chinese food from the Ming Dynasty." Garrett looks up at Edward with a challenge in his eyes, but I jump in before Edward can respond.

"We're choosing from one of the places I have menus for. Suck it up, or buy your own food. I don't care which."

"I say we should go British," Emmett declares. I'd almost forgotten he was here.

"British?" Garrett's attention is finally off Edward, thank God.

"Yeah, like fish and chips or something. We get all this other multi-cultural jazz at home."

Edward nods, sitting back down beside me, and throwing his arm over my shoulder. "I hope you've got some bread, Carlisle."

"What the hell do we need bread for?" Emmett asks.

"It's a weird British thing," Edward tells him, grinning at me. Garrett and I look back at him in horror.

"Just trust us, Emmett, it's incredible. And Edward's just being a dick, he loves it too." I go to dig him in the ribs, too, but he holds his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay. It's nice, it tastes good."

Emmett shakes his head turning his attention back to the TV. "I don't think I want to know what you're talking about."

~-DTD-~

"I looked at your internet history," Edward whispers in my ear.

Despite my initial reservations, it turns out that the four of us were perfectly capable of getting through all of the beer that Garrett brought with him. I drank less than everyone else, wanting to keep a handle on what was going on, but I'm still more than pleasantly buzzed.

Emmett stumbled into a taxi after the football ended – he's a big guy and the alcohol didn't affect him as much as it did the rest of us. Garrett's still here, but is completely out of it. He's still awake but his eyes are glassy, and I'm fairly sure he has no real idea what's going on around him. He's pretty much asleep with his eyes open.

Edward has become increasingly handsy as the alcohol floods his system. I'm not complaining, although Garrett had a few choice words about being stuck on a sofa with us.

I hit Garrett on the leg. "Go and sleep in the spare room. I'm not putting you in a taxi like that."

He blinks and looks around for a second before he gets his bearings. "You two had better not keep me awake all night," he warns. I roll my eyes; I'm fairly sure a bulldozer wouldn't wake him up tonight.

"Just go to bed, Garrett."

He takes himself off to the bedroom, and I wonder if I should follow him in. He's going to fall asleep in his jeans, and get annoyed when he wakes up in the morning. Edward's lips on my neck are persuading me otherwise though, and as his teeth scrape my skin, I decide that Garrett is old enough to look after himself.

Finally, I remember Edward's words.

"What do you mean you looked at my history?"

"I lied to Garrett. I did look at it. It was... enlightening."

Oh, fuck. "How much did you look at?"

"Not much, I really did have to do some work. I just emailed myself a few links to check out at home. For, uh, research," he nods to himself, pleased with having found an acceptable reason for saving the websites.

"Research, huh?" I tug his hair so that he has to raise his head. He looks at me, his cheeks pink – that might be thanks to all the alcohol, though.

"Yeah. I want to know what to do. I want to do everything properly."

I laugh. "I'm not sure that porn is the way to discover that. Anyway, you're doing fine as it is, trust me. You saw me this morning – that was all because of you."

He smiles, kissing me gently.

"Go on, go and get ready for bed. I'll tidy up in here and meet you in there in a couple of minutes." I can't go to sleep knowing there is mess around, but I intend to throw everything out as it is. Fuck recycling, Edward's in my bed.

It only takes me a few minutes to move everything out to the kitchen, and I know Garrett will finish anything I've missed in the morning. He's fairly good like that. I flick off the electrics, and check that the door is locked, before heading in to Edward.

I pause in the doorwat, Edward's flat out on the bed. Face down and still in his clothes, fast asleep.

I head to the other room to undress Garrett; I don't have to rush back to Edward so I might as well keep my best friend comfortable, too. He doesn't even stir as I wrestle his jeans off; the man drank far too much this evening. I leave him in his t-shirt and boxers, pulling a sheet over him.

When I get back to my room, I do the same for Edward. He does stir, apologising for sleeping, and then immediately drops off again. I manage to get his t-shirt and jeans off before I give up. It's a warm night, but I think he might have something to say if he wakes up naked.

I get myself ready for bed, completely exhausted from a long day. I have no idea what Edward has got planned for tomorrow, but I hope he can manage it with a hangover.

I'm asleep before I know it, and woken in the middle of the night by someone crashing round outside my bedroom door. I get up to investigate, fairly sure I know exactly what's going on.

It's Garrett. So much for thinking he'd sleep through a bulldozer. He always wakes up in the middle of the night; he's like a fucking child.

"Why am I sleeping on my own?" he whines. "We always sleep together when we stay over at each other's apartments."

I'm fairly sure he's still pretty drunk.

"Because Edward is here, Gar. You weren't even meant to be staying here tonight, remember? I kindly offered you a bed."

"Oh, yeah." He pauses and I lean against the doorframe, waiting for him to go back to bed.

He doesn't.

"Can't I get in with you guys?"

He really is drunk. Jesus. "Garrett, you are drunk. Go back to bed and sleep it off."

He sighs and goes back to the spare room.

I climb back into bed, and see Edward is awake.

"Sorry, I was hoping we didn't wake you."

"You guys really do always sleep together, huh?"

I can't work out how Edward feels about that. "Well, yeah, if we're in the same place. We don't seek each other out randomly."

He nods, not appearing to be overly concerned by my relationship with Garrett. He turns over, taking my arm with him so that I am spooning him.

I start to drift off when Edward speaks again. "He could have got in with us, I wouldn't have minded. It'd be just like one of the videos you've got saved on your laptop."

"Shush, you."

I feel his body shake a little with laughter, and I gently bite down on his shoulder.

I'm struck by how comfortable this all is, and I really, really hope that he's not about to pull a stunt like last time again. Otherwise, I'll have to let Garrett loose on him.

Mind you, judging by his reaction to my best friend, he might like that.

Too tired to think of a Plan B, I decide it's probably time to stop worrying. Edward is here, he's meeting my friends and family, I've met his best friend. He's making a huge effort, he isn't freaking out about being with me, and he's not once mentioned that he supposedly isn't gay.

With that in mind, I squeeze his waist and allow myself to sleep, excited for whatever he has planned for tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
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**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. I've been tinkering with this all day, though. As usual. All mistakes are mine.  
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******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
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* * *

Sunday morning is far too bright. Winter can't come quickly enough for my retinas.

Edward isn't next to me when I wake up, and I briefly worry that he has fled during the night. Worrying hurts my head, though, so I stop bothering with that pretty quickly. I'm sure he's just in the bathroom.

I lie in bed, trying to wake myself up a little more before I get up and face the day. I can hear people murmuring in the kitchen, though, and I need to hear what they're saying. I'm assuming it's Garrett and Edward, but seeing as I can't hear anything that would indicate murder, maybe it isn't.

I hope they're not kissing.

Rolling my eyes at myself – which, incidentally, also hurts – I climb slowly out of bed, and pad out to the kitchen. Garrett and Edward are sitting at my table, drinking coffee. Well, Edward is drinking coffee; Garrett has his head resting on his arms, lying over the table, clearly worse for wear. I kiss the back of Edward's neck before walking over to pour myself a drink, too, and joining them.

We sit in silence for a few moments until Edward speaks.

"I've ordered us breakfast."

"Shhhh," Garrett groans, not moving his head an inch.

Ignoring him, I turn to Edward. "What do you mean ordered breakfast? We're not in a hotel."

He looks a little sheepish as he answers. "No, but I am booked into one. And I pay a fuck-load of money to stay there. So they're sending someone out with breakfast. And Emmett."

I stare at him for a minute, and then gently shake my head. I haven't even got the strength to argue with him. People with ridiculous amounts of money are quite clearly insane.

There is a knock at the door, and Edward stands up to answer it. While he's talking with whoever's bringing the food in, Garrett finally lifts his head.

"Your boyfriend is entirely too fucking chirpy for me. Where's his hangover? Has he paid it to fuck off? Do you think he'd pay mine off, too?"

Emmett comes in, followed by a porter from the hotel who is laden with two picnic hampers of food. I gesture to him to put them on the floor next to us, and Edward hands him a tip before he leaves. Clearly Edward understands the concept of tipping; I wonder why he's never bothered to tip me.

I get up and pour Emmett a coffee. He's remarkably un-hungover, too; maybe it's an American thing.

Edward busies himself unloading the food while I grab some plates. Garrett, who is resting his head on the table again, is still quite unwilling to move, but we work around him. He's a dick in general, but he's not even worth speaking to when he's hungover.

They've sent us an absolute feast – hot and cold food – enough to feed an army. It smells amazing, and Garrett even manages to lift his head for long enough to take it all in. It doesn't take long before we are all piling our plates high.

"Happy birthday, boss," Emmett grins.

Edward doesn't respond, choosing instead to glare at Emmett.

"It's your birthday?" I ask. I should have Googled him or something – someone who has as much money as he does must be famous somewhere – then I would have known this shit. Now I feel terrible that I will spend the day with a hangover, and I won't even have a present to give him.

"Yeah, it is. It's not a big deal."

"I could have bought you something if I'd have known."

"You let me stay here overnight, that was a nice present," he argues.

"Oh yeah, without me you would have had to go back to your thousand-pound-a-night suite. However would you have coped?"

Edward rolls his eyes at me. "Staying here was much more pleasant than going back to my hotel room alone."

"Gross. No one wants to hear about sex at the breakfast table." That was Garrett, unsurprisingly. I kick him in the shin, but otherwise ignore him.

"We didn't have sex at the breakfast table." Edward grins.

Emmett's eyes widen, and I really wish I could just go back to bed and avoid this conversation completely.

Garrett looks up at Edward, and even manages a small smile. "I know that. Carlisle would never let you have sex in a food preparation area."

"Jesus. Do we have to have this conversation right now? Sorry, Emmett." I'm sure he doesn't want to hear any of this.

Emmett shrugs and goes back to eating. He's probably just glad that the heat is off him for revealing that it's Edward's birthday today. Speaking of which, I turn to Edward. "Is this why you have planned what we're doing today?"

"Yeah. I didn't want you to feel under pressure to find something for us to do."

"You didn't tell me it was your birthday, so why would that matter?"

"I was fairly sure that Emmett would give the game away at some point." Edward looks at his friend, who doesn't even react to his words. "I don't care whether we do anything special or not, Carlisle, but I knew you'd feel bad if you found out it was my birthday after you planned something that you'd deem not birthday-worthy. This was just my way of making sure that didn't happen."

Garrett snorts. "You're so thoughtful, Edward, always thinking about how your actions would affect Carlisle. Shame you weren't like this a few months ago."

I groan; he can't leave it for five fucking minutes. "Leave Edward alone and eat your food, Gar. You're like a bear with a sore head."

"You'd love me to be a bear, Carlisle."

"Shut up."

Edward looks at me, mouthing "bear?" At least he's not focussing on Garrett's insults. I shake my head; I can't be bothered explaining gay terminology to him while I'm dealing with Garrett and a hangover.

Everything calms down when Garrett decides that eating takes precedence over snarking at Edward. The food is absolutely delicious; I can see why Edward wanted it brought over, rather than letting me cook for him. I can cook okay, but nothing like this.

Garrett trails off after the food is gone, presumably to go and sleep off his hangover at home. He hugs me before he leaves, knowing I won't see him until after Edward leaves.

"Don't let him fuck you over again, but if he does, call me. I'll kick his ass, I swear to God," he whispers to me.

"I know you will, Gar, and I appreciate it."

Emmett shuffles out of the door behind him, and I grab his arm. "I can drive you back to the hotel, if you want?"

He looks towards Edward, who shrugs. "I don't want you working today, that's not fair."

"It's not working. Driving is a fact of life. I'm sure that we can still do whatever you've got planned if we start off from your hotel."

Edward agrees, deciding that he can shower at the hotel, and I grab a change of clothes to do the same. The showers there are so much better than mine, and it helps save my water bill, which is an added bonus. The idea of being naked with Edward may have also crossed my mind, too.

At the hotel, Emmett trails straight back to his room. Apparently just because Edward has the day off, doesn't mean Emmett does too – poor guy.

Edward gives me the key-card to his room, telling me he needs to speak to the hotel staff about something. He promises he won't be long, so once I'm in his room, I decide to wait on his bed. It's so comfortable; I don't know why he wanted to stay the night at my flat last night.

Before I know it, I am being woken up by a half-naked, wet Edward. I can't figure out whether I'm annoyed that I missed him showering, or pleased by being woken up this way.

"Shit. I didn't mean to fall asleep. Sorry. I didn't want to miss you shower, either."

Edward laughs and presses a kiss to my lips. "Well, I was hoping you'd stay here tonight, so we can always shower together later. In the morning too, if you want?"

"I haven't got my work clothes with me, and I'm driving you to the airport tomorrow."

"Well, I won't tell if you don't."

"I can't not wear a suit for work; if Tanya found out she'd kill me. How about I stay, but we leave earlier? Then I can stop off at my place and change before we go to the airport?" It's not an ideal solution, but I don't want to pass up the opportunity to stay with Edward on his last night here, especially in this bed.

"Okay, that works. Although I'm not sure you'll be persuaded to get out of bed any earlier, judging by the last few days."

"They were my days off!" I protest.

Edward laughs, and starts to get dressed. I watch until he is completely covered up, and then go to shower myself. I steal some of his shower gel, and resist the urge to jerk off. If I'm staying here tonight, I'm hoping that Edward won't be passing out drunk again.

I feel more alive after my shower, and less hungover, thankfully. I dress quickly and head out to meet Edward.

"So, what are we doing today?" I ask.

"I thought we'd have a quiet day. I don't want to do much; I'm not really into celebrating my birthday. I thought we could head over to Hyde Park and spend the day there. The hotel will pack us a picnic basket, and I've booked us a meal here for tonight. Does that sound okay?" He seems nervous, clearly worried that what he's got planned isn't enough for me. I couldn't really care less what we do, though, and a quiet day sounds perfect.

We walk over to Hyde Park carrying the basket that the hotel made up for us. Edward is clearly proud that he's found something for us to do that doesn't involve me having to drive.

He finds us a nice spot to sit. It's remarkably quiet here considering the weather is so good; usually people are out at the first hint of sunlight. Maybe it's too hot for everyone now; we English don't tend to cope well with any extreme weather conditions.

"Do you really not celebrate your birthday?" I ask. If it's my birthday, I usually end up somewhere with Garrett and some of our other friends. Sometimes we go to a pub, sometimes a club, but I can't imagine doing nothing. Even Esme makes sure that I celebrate by cooking a meal and inviting me over.

"Well, I acknowledge that it happens. I'm normally working, though. Alice will ring, my parents will ring, Emmett will buy me something inappropriate, and that's about it."

"Inappropriate?"

"Yeah, he says I've got so much money that he can't think of anything that I actually need, so he buys me stupid stuff. Things I wouldn't want to open in front of my secretary, so he obviously makes sure she's in the room when he brings them."

"Oh, God. I regret introducing him to Garrett now; I feel like they could be horrendous together."

"I can see that, too. Emmett takes a while to figure people out, though. He's friendly to everyone, but he won't completely relax with you guys for a while. Not quite like Garrett."

"Yeah, Garrett doesn't care what he says to people. I don't know how he manages to hold down his job; he must manage to find some charm while he's there."

"He is quite charming, when he wants to be," he admits.

I grin. I think Edward has a mini-crush on Garrett, even if he doesn't know it yet.

"I am sorry about the stuff he's been saying to you. He's been out of line a few times."

"It's okay, he's just looking out for you. His concerns are valid." My eyes widen at his words, and he rushes to explain. "I don't mean that I'm going to do it again. I mean that I can see why he thinks I would."

This is probably the moment to have this talk, but I really don't want to. I don't want to know his answer if it isn't positive. "So, does that mean you still want to make a go of things?"

He grabs my hand, not even looking to see who is around, and I smile. "Yes," he assures me. "I do. I want to see how this works out. I know we got off to a weird start, and I know I'm not the easiest person in the world to get along with, but I really want to do this."

"This isn't just an experiment for me, okay? I don't want to do this if it's just you trying something new. I'm in this for the long-haul, if you are too?"

He nods. "I know. I can see why you'd think that it might just be me... I don't know... getting something out of my system. I've had months to think about this, I've told Emmett about it. I know I haven't mentioned it to family, but I didn't want to turn their worlds upside down for something that you might not even want."

"You don't have to turn people's worlds upside down, Edward. Yes, it's a shock, and it takes some getting used to – probably more so in your case – but it doesn't have to change anything for anyone but you. It's your life, not theirs."

"I know, it's just difficult. If we do this though, my family will find out. I mean, I'll tell them about us." He's starting to get a little flustered now, and I squeeze his hand, hoping to reassure him.

"It's fine, Edward. I'm not saying you need to tell them next week or anything."

He nods, and we are quiet for a few minutes, watching people go past. I enjoy people watching, and I wonder what people's stories are. I wonder what story they think Edward and I share, and if we look like friends or lovers to other people.

"How do we deal with the distance issue?" I feel like I am asking all the big questions, and on his birthday, no less. He doesn't seem in the right frame of mind to be dealing with much other than the realisation that he wants a relationship with me, which is fair enough.

"I don't know. I fly out here fairly often – usually for work – so I can keep doing that."

"If you're working, though, will we see each other?"

He grimaces. "I'm not sure. Everything is pretty full on when I'm working. I can do what I did this time, though, and extend my trip a little. If I'm needed here Monday to Friday, then I can fly out on the Friday before, and home on the Sunday – that gives us a few extra days."

"I'm not sure two days every couple of months – when you're jet lagged or shattered – counts as a relationship." I can't imagine living my life like that, I'm not sure I want to, even for Edward.

"I can take time off, too, and come over. Or add vacation time onto my trips; that'd save us losing a day to flying. You can visit me, too."

"Edward, I can't afford to fly out to you once every other month."

"I'll pay," he shrugs.

I can't even imagine what it's like to have money at your disposal like that. I don't do badly, but I'm not in a position where I can afford to fly myself all over the place, let alone anyone else.

"I guess that's one way of dealing with it. I'm not sure how much time I can take off work, though. A lot of my time off goes on looking after the boys."

Edward is unfazed. "We can figure it out. I can tell Tanya I need you to drive me around Chicago or something."

I laugh. "She'd probably go for it, if you gave her enough cash." She really would.

"It's a thought, actually. I could sell you to people as the company to use for transport."

"Sell me?" I pretend to be horrified. We need to get past the fact that I work for Edward; we need to be able to joke about it. I hope that he can go along with me.

He does, shoving my shoulder a little. "You know what I mean. Sell the business. People I work with do a lot of business over here; it might be worth a try."

"Tanya would come too, there's no way she'd trust me not to say something ridiculous." The idea that Tanya would pass up an opportunity for a free holiday is ridiculous.

"I could work with that."

I shake my head; it's all pie in the sky. We need something more concrete.

"Okay, look," he says. "I'm due back here in August sometime, I think. I'll do the same thing I did this time. I'll take the Friday and the Monday off to travel, so we'll have both weekends. I can try to take the Friday off when I'm here, too. We'll have five days. You can stay at the hotel with me, even if I'm working, if you want? I might not be there much, but we can at least sleep in the same bed."

"What about Emmett? You can't keep dragging him out here for long periods of time just so that we can spend time together, doesn't he have someone back home?" I really feel sorry for Emmett; he seems to get quite a rough deal.

"He can just fly out for the week. He doesn't have to fly out with me, I won't make him. He only stayed this time because it's my birthday. Well, that and he wanted to meet you."

I look at Edward in horror. "He stayed because it's your birthday, and you've made him work and spent the day with me?"

"Uh... yes?"

"If you were my boss and friend, I would tell you where to shove your job."

"That doesn't surprise me. I'm quite nice to Emmett, though, in general."

"Whatever you say, Edward. I'm sure you could be nicer."

He huffs, and pulls out his phone, tapping in a message. "There, I've told him to stop working, and that he can come and sit with us, if he wants."

"You're so generous. I'm sure he'll be pleased."

"He did have Friday off," Edward points out. "I'm not horrendous."

"It's hardly fair that you're off and he's working, though."

"I work when he's off," he argues.

"Why are we even talking about this?"

"You started it," he grins.

Just then, his phone beeps, and he looks at the message that comes in. He shows his phone to me; it's Emmett.

"_Thanks boss. Carlisle is softening you up... or maybe doing the exact opposite. I'm not sure I want to know. Either way, thanks. I won't join you. I'll text Garrett and see what he's up to, I'm sure he'll want to watch the soccer."_

"Jesus," I groan. "They've got each other's numbers? Maybe Emmett will want to spend more time here when you do after all."

"Can we stop talking about what a horrible boss I am now?" Edward asks, and I grin at him.

"Yes, we can. I'm sure you're a lovely boss," I pat his arm condescendingly and laugh, as he rolls his eyes at me.

We unpack our food, noticing that it's well into the afternoon already. Fortunately, our meal isn't booked until eight this evening, so we have time to digest this before we need to eat again. Hangovers really screw up your day.

As with breakfast, this food is incredible. I wish I could eat like this every day; it's going to suck going back to the stuff I cook. Thank God I have Esme to cook me decent food every now and then.

Considering how much we ate this morning, I'm surprised how fast we manage to devour every bite in front of us. Before I know it, though, Edward is flat on his back, and I'm resting my head on his chest, lying perpendicular to him.

"Is this okay?" I ask. I'm still not sure how comfortable he is with any public displays of affection, but he just hums and threads his fingers through my hair. I guess this is okay, then.

We lie in a comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the feel of the sun on us, and the rare still moment that we have found in our normally hectic lives.

His hand pauses in my hair, and I know he's working himself up to say something. I wait; pushing him into saying whatever it is, won't work.

"Do you... uh... do you want to do this, then?"

I turn my head so I'm looking at his face, but it's not overly helpful, as I still can't see much from this angle. "Do what?"

"Try a relationship. All we've talked about is how I'd deal with things, not what you think about it."

I roll off him, turning myself so that I can prop myself up on one arm. I lace my fingers with his, and smile gently at him. "I think, as long as we can figure out the distance thing, then we'll be fine. I know it'll take us a while to work everything out, and I'm sure it won't always be easy, but I'm willing to give it a go."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I lean down to kiss him, hovering above his lips for a second, to make sure he's okay with this. His hand comes up to rest in my hair, and pulls me down to close the distance. He's clearly more than okay with this, and that makes me smile into the kiss. He can obviously feel it, and he breaks us apart, raising an eyebrow at my expression.

"It's just good to be like this with you, and to know that you're happy. I wasn't quite sure you'd ever get here – let alone get here so quickly."

His cheeks pink a little as he answers me. "I guess when I want something, I go after it, you know? There's no point in doing things half-heartedly."

I kiss him again, and then stand up, pulling him with me. "Come on, let's walk for a bit. I need to exercise off some of the food we've been eating."

We pack up the picnic, and hand it off to someone from the hotel that has magically appeared. I raise an eyebrow at Edward, and he at least has the decency to look sheepish. As we start to walk towards the lake, he takes hold of my hand, and all is forgotten.

I can see a glint in his eyes as we reach the lake, and I know what he's about to say before he even says it.

"How do you feel about boats?"

"What sort of boats?" I know exactly what he means, but the more I can delay this, the better.

"Paddle boats," he grins.

I frown; it's not a term I'm familiar with. "You mean a pedalo?"

"A boat you have to pedal, yeah. Whatever. Let's hire one."

"Are you joking?"

"No; don't you want to?" He actually looks quite upset at the prospect that getting into a dirty boat might not appeal to me.

"Uh, if you can find something for me to sit on that hasn't had people's feet all over it, then I'm okay with it." I tap my pocket to check I still have my anti-bacterial gel, which I do. That will help.

"I'll sort it out." With that promise, he is off and chatting to the owner of the boats.

I don't know how he does it – money obviously talks – but they bring out a new boat for us. Completely new, and completely clean. I can't even be annoyed at him for throwing money around, because it means that I don't have to spend an hour freaking out in a dirty boat.

I give him a quick hug in thanks, and step into the boat, making myself comfortable as he joins me.

"Are you ready? You wanted exercise," he grins.

I roll my eyes and start pedalling. Edward takes over the steering, which doesn't surprise me in the slightest.

"Don't forget to pull your weight in pedalling, I'm not doing it all," I warn him.

"I found a dirt-free boat," he argues. "You should pedal me around for an hour in thanks."

"You _bought_ a dirt-free boat. Get those legs working, slacker."

He throws his head back with laughter, and looks absolutely beautiful. It's amazing to see him this relaxed, and I grab my phone out of my pocket to snap a picture of him. His hair seems lighter in this radiant sunshine, and I just about resist running my hands through it, as he grins to the camera.

"I want a photo of us together, too," he tells me.

"Maybe when we're on dry land," I bargain. I don't fancy trying to pedal, steer and taking a photo at the same time. It would only end in disaster.

Edward agrees and we pedal away from the crowds for a while. Evidently everyone is on the lake and not in the park today.

"We should do this again next time I come over. Bring Jared and Seth with us," Edward suggests. I'm surprised to hear him thinking of including the kids in our plans, but I can't say I'm not happy. The boys are part of the package with me, and I bet they'd enjoy doing this. We never really do touristy stuff in London, because we live here.

I reach over and squeeze Edward's hand, and he smiles shyly back at me. "They'd love that," I assure him.

He smiles, and we pedal onward. My thighs are starting to ache, and I really don't want to be completely exhausted before tonight, so I suggest that we just float for a while.

We bob about on the water, watching the world go by. I love that there is somewhere this calm in the middle of such a busy city. It feels like we're miles away from the hustle and bustle of London – apart from the other people here – but even they have a more relaxed attitude. Maybe it's the sunlight, or the greenery. Whatever it is, I'm enjoying it.

Edward seems relaxed, too; his eyes are closed and he is facing the sky, enjoying the sun. I'm glad that he's had the chance to chill out a bit; he must work hard, and moments like this are probably rare for him.

"Are you enjoying your birthday so far?"

He opens his eyes and looks over to me, smiling. "Yeah, I am. This is the best one I've had in years."

I grin, choosing to take the compliment, rather than pointing out that he has probably spent the last however many birthdays working.

"Come on," he says. "Let's do some more pedalling. I'll rub your thighs down for you later."

I look at him in shock as he starts us off. I join in, and he grins at me, not saying another word.

~-DTD-~

We decide, in the end, that it makes more sense for me to head back to my place this afternoon, rather than tomorrow morning. I don't have anything to wear for a meal in the restaurant here, and while Edward offered to eat in his suite instead, I refused. He needs to get used to being out and about, and he's made so much progress, I don't want to halt it for the sake of a journey home.

I get changed in Edward's suite, knowing that there was no point getting ready before I drove. London traffic and this weather turns me into a sweaty mess.

We're both ready just about in time. He looks incredible, as usual. He's wearing a blue dress shirt, and his dark grey trousers do wonderful things for his ass. I'm surprised we even make it out of the hotel room.

There's a sense of urgency as we eat, I think we're both aware that it's Edward's last day here, and we want to be alone. Maybe I should have agreed to eat in the suite after all. The meal is lovely, though, and we chat about the day, and things he wants to do in London next time he's here. He also tells me a little about Chicago, and the things we can do there when I visit. He insists that whenever I get out there, he will take off work the entire time I'm there. I'm not quite sure where he is planning on finding all this vacation time, but there is no arguing with him. I think my visits over there are a long way off yet, anyway.

We head upstairs after our meal. Edward asks if I want him to order some drinks for us, but I had a couple of beers with our meal, and that's all I want. I don't need a hangover tomorrow, and, more importantly, I don't need to be drunk tonight.

He agrees with my reasoning, and before long, we are in his bedroom, slowly undressing each other. Fantastic as he looks in his clothes, he looks a hundred times better out of them, and I run my hands down his chest. I can feel his heart pounding as my fingers pass over it, and I smile at the knowledge that I'm affecting him as much as he affects me.

He buries his face in my neck, and I groan as I feel his teeth nip at me. His hands are on my ass, holding me firmly to him. I'm not complaining.

"I want to fuck you," he groans, his hips grinding against mine. "Can I fuck you?"

Jesus.

"Uh, have you got anything with you?" I'm not about to stop whatever this is we're doing so he can run out to get lube.

"Yeah. Google was my friend again. I ran out while you were at your flat," he tells me.

"Okay." I want this. I don't see any reason to say no anymore.

"Okay?" His voice cracks a little. Despite his preparations, I don't think he was expecting me to say yes.

"Yeah. Have you done this before?"

He looks at me, confused.

"You can do this with girls, too, Edward." Lust clearly affects his intelligence.

"Oh, no, I haven't. But I've, uh, watched some videos in the last few weeks," he admits.

I pause. "Okay, I want the links to these videos at some point. I'm sure I can send you some good ones, too. Well, if you haven't already stolen the links from my laptop, of course."

He smiles sheepishly and nods. I grin back at him before lying on the bed while he grabs the condoms and lube out of his bag.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, as he hovers over me.

"Edward, seriously. I want this, don't stress out about it; it's meant to be fun." I run my hands through his hair, trying to reassure him with my actions as well as my words. Edward nods, smiling shyly at me. It's sweet that he's worried, but he has no reason to be.

"Okay, just make sure you tell me if I do anything wrong." His hand trails over my stomach and lightly grips my cock.

"I'm sure that won't be a problem," I grit out, his hand already affecting my ability to speak normally.

His hands are gentle; he's not the Edward I've come to know in the last few days. He's clearly nervous about this. I try to encourage him as much as I can – not that it's a special effort to be vocal, what he's doing really does feel good. He's clearly been watching the videos a lot.

He picks up the bottle of lube, and I grin at him. His hands are shaking, and I take it from him to squirt some onto his fingers.

"You'll do fine, just go slowly," I reassure him.

His fingers start to prepare me, and although he is nervous, everything he does feels incredible. His confidence grows as my reactions are nothing but positive. He starts to kiss my neck and I groan at the dual sensations. I move my hips, desperate to get some friction, and I can feel him smile against my neck.

"Are you ready?"

"What do you think, Edward?" While my answer is borne of frustration, I also want him to learn to read the cues for himself.

He moves away from me to grab the condom, and I hate being left with no contact at all. I make a mental note to tell him to keep it closer to us, next time.

"Like this?" Edward asks, as he lies between my legs.

I nod, pulling him down to me for a kiss. His nerves have clearly returned – his kisses are tentative, and almost shy. I decide to get his focus away from his concern and reach out for the lube as he kisses me. I break the kiss, so I can pour some onto my fingers, and I wrap my hand around his cock, stroking him firmly. His nerves had tempered his erection slightly, but my movements bring him back into the moment.

He moans, and I shift my hips so we are lined up. I reach out and wipe my hand off on a towel that had been left on the bed by the maid while we were out. I'm sure her intention wasn't that we used it to wipe lube-y hands on, but I can't bring myself to care right now. I can't resist running my hands over his chest as I trail them up to his hair. His eyes search mine for a minute, and I smile at him, knowing he still needs reassurance, even though we are this close.

Slowly, he pushes in with a groan, his head dropping down to bury in my neck. His movements are tentative at first, and I resist the urge to flip us over and show him how much I can take. Confidence is a fragile thing, and doing that probably wouldn't help him at all. What he's doing feels amazing enough, and I wrap my legs around him.

His pace falters, and I nip at his neck. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just... uh... didn't want this over too quickly. I'm not giving a very good account of myself here."

I grab his hand from the pillow next to me, and bring it down to my hard cock. "Trust me," I assure him. "You are giving a very good account of yourself."

Dipping down to kiss my lips, he starts to move more steadily again. He hasn't quite got the skill to touch me at the same time, so I bat his hand away and do it myself.

He speeds his movements up, obviously close. His lips are teasing my neck, his breath hot and heavy against my skin. I'm close, too, and my hand works furiously. I want him to feel what it's like when I come while he's inside me – there's nothing like it.

Edward shifts his position slightly, his arms starting to give way a little, and the new angle means he is hitting my prostate on each thrust. The sensations are incredible, and I feel my orgasm rush through me. I groan out Edward's name as I arch my back, and though my half-closed eyes I can see him grin at me before he gives a couple more thrusts and groans out _my _name.

We lie there in silence for a few minutes, our heavy breaths the only real sound we are making. I am sticky and gross, but I can't quite bring myself to move quite yet.

Edward rolls off me eventually, and I wrinkle my nose as the cold air hits me.

"Was that okay?" he asks.

I gesture down at myself, unable to move properly yet. "Edward, I am lying here covered in various bodily fluids. I think it's a nod to exactly how 'okay' it was that I haven't felt the need to move yet."

He grins and kisses me. "I was just making sure."

I roll my eyes at him, apparently he needs good feedback in all aspects of his life.

Hopping off the bed, he turns back to me. "I'll go and run us a shower and call reception to get the sheets changed." While he's up, he grabs the towel I discarded earlier and throws it to me so I can clean up a little.

I don't know whether I'm more mortified at the idea of sleeping in sweaty sheets, or the idea that someone is going to change them for us, knowing exactly why they're doing it. It's a sweet idea of Edward's though, and I smile at the knowledge that he is okay with my various obsessive behaviours.

"Can we strip the bed for them?" I ask. "I don't think it's fair to make them do that."

Edward grins, and pulls the covers up, causing me to roll off the bed. I'm too far into my post-coital bliss to even be annoyed with him, and I smile as we strip the sheets together. Naked.

I could get used to this.

~-DTD-~

Our alarm blares out on Monday morning, and I groan, immediately remembering that Edward is flying home today. He has clearly had the same thought process, pulling me in tighter to his arms and kissing the top of my head.

"I don't want to leave," he murmurs.

"This sucks," I groan. "I know we talked about it, but I'd quite like to keep you here forever."

I pause, realising the implications of what I've just said, but Edward remains unfazed. "Maybe one day," he agrees.

We lie in silence for a while, before he finally moves. "Come on, you were desperate to shower together yesterday morning. We need to enjoy the time we've got left."

He gets up, and I stay in bed to enjoy the view as he walks, naked, to the bathroom. What can I say – he told me to enjoy the time I had.

Our shower takes longer than planned, as Edward is in a teasing mood, and I am in no mood to hurry him up. It means we miss breakfast completely, and we still have to hurry to get ready. I grimace as I pull on my suit. I like being smartly dressed, but I much preferred being naked with Edward.

Emmett is waiting downstairs, with some food packaged up for us.

"You guys didn't make it down in time for breakfast, and I didn't particularly feel like interrupting you to let you know you were running late."

"Thanks, Em." Edward takes the food and shoots him a shy grin.

"No problem, boss. I bet you're glad our rooms were far apart now," Emmett laughs. "I've checked out for us, so you don't need to worry." He grabs Edward's key from him, and drops it off at reception before striding out to the car.

I take some food from Edward, and eat it quickly as we walk out. I can let Edward get away with eating in the car, but I won't do it unless it's strictly necessary.

As we drive to the airport, Emmett tells us about his afternoon with Garrett the day before. Apparently, after a nap, Garrett was in a much better mood, and they spent the entire afternoon and evening making stupid bets on the football. It doesn't surprise me in the least to hear that Garrett was giving odds on which team would have a fan with the biggest breasts; that sounds exactly like him. I hope he hasn't corrupted Emmett.

I'm glad they are getting on well, though. It means I don't feel quite as bad that Emmett is being brought over here just because Edward wants to see me. It also means that Garrett will be less likely to get on Edward's back about things.

Considering airport runs usually feel like they last hours, this one goes horribly quickly.

I usually just drop-off and go, but this time I park the car, not caring about the cost. Edward grabs my hand as we walk into the airport, and I squeeze it tightly. I really don't want him to leave. I stay with them through check-in, confusing the clerk at the desk slightly.

"You can't get past security," she huffs when she realises I'm not travelling.

"I know," I tell her, unwilling to let her crappy attitude get to me.

Edward is not so forgiving. "We know the rules of this airport. I fly in and out of here enough, as you can see by my executive-platinum membership card. My, uh, boyfriend was just staying with us as long as he could. Is that a problem?"

The clerk gulps and shakes her head, and I can't help but grin. I normally hate any displays of superiority, but this one was quite hot. Not to mention he acknowledged who I was to a complete stranger.

He shows her his passport and grabs his ticket, before striding off, my hand still in his. Emmett goes straight through security, leaving us alone – or as alone as you can be in a hall full of people.

Edward pulls us over to a slightly quieter place, pushing me so that I'm leaning against the wall. He takes my face in his hands, his thumb stroking my cheek.

"I don't want to leave," he murmurs.

I smile sadly at him; his thoughts are clearly echoing my own.

Suddenly, his eyes widen. "Was it okay, what I called you?"

"Your boyfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Of course it was. We're together now, right?"

He leans in to kiss me softly. "Yeah," he whispers. "We are."


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. Any mistakes are mine, due to my inability to let things lie.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LHR 12:00, Monday 21st June. Meet at drop off point. Name "Newton." Drop off at London Business School._

_._

I tap my fingers against the steering wheel. I hate waiting in the car for people; it feels unprofessional and rude. It also gives me less of a chance to size them up before they get into my car. Newton has used the service before, though, and I know exactly what to expect.

I've been a bit lost since Edward disappeared through security an hour ago. I finished off the food that Emmett had packed up for us, even though I wasn't especially hungry. Edward has been texting me occasionally, but I think he's catching up with the work he missed over the last few days, so I haven't heard much from him.

Right on cue, my phone buzzes and, after checking around that no one was heading for my car, I pull it out of my pocket to read his message.

My good mood is ruined when I see that it's an email, and it's not from Edward.

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Tanya Denali**_

_Carlisle,_

_Care to explain to me exactly why I saw you kissing Edward Masen at Heathrow earlier today? You're free after your drop-off this afternoon. Come and see me. _

_Tanya_

.

Oh, shit.

Tanya is going to fucking kill me.

I don't have much time to stew on it, though, as Michael Newton walks out of the airport. I jump out to open his door and he looks me up and down before stepping into the car. He's checking that my suit is all in order. He's such a dick.

As always, I am dressed immaculately, and he can find no faults. I find myself doubly glad for my need to be smart and clean at all times; it's one less thing that Tanya can be mad at me for. I think I'm going to need all the help I can get today.

Newton has got no luggage with him, clearly only here for a day trip. That makes my life a little easier.

As I get back into my seat, I offer him a bottle of water, which he accepts. It's so warm today, and even with the air-con on in the car, you still feel like you could drink your body weight in fluids. Tanya's email has made me feel quite sick, though, so I don't bother getting one out for myself.

The drive is smooth, thank God, although part of me wishes there was some drama so that I could take my mind off the upcoming meeting. Newton is quiet, occasionally typing out a message on his phone. The radio is playing quietly, the station still set to classical music after Edward has been in the car. I can't quite bring myself to change it.

My phone has been suspiciously quiet. Edward shouldn't be on his flight, yet, so I'm not sure why I haven't felt any vibrations. I try not to worry about that, though; I've got enough on my plate. It's fairly pointless trying to put Edward out of my mind. The journey we are taking is almost identical to the drive from the hotel to the airport – only, obviously, the other way. Reminders of him are everywhere and I can't help but miss him.

The last few days have been incredible – more than I ever expected. I wasn't entirely sure how Edward would behave, but I never thought he would be happy to be so open with me. It took me a long time to get used to the idea of being affectionate with a guy in public, but Edward just went for it. We clearly went for a bit too much, seeing as Tanya has spotted us. I hope she won't be too mad.

I drop Newton off at his destination and he gives me a small tip before leaving; clearly, my presentation and driving were up to his standards.

I make my way back through the city to Tanya's office. Edward still hasn't been in touch, and it's becoming more and more difficult to ignore. I hope I hear something before he leaves the country; spending the entire meeting with Tanya, wondering about him won't be much help.

The journey is horribly quick and, before long, I find myself waiting outside Tanya's office like a naughty schoolboy again. This time I _know_ I'm in trouble, though.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I almost cry with relief when I see that it's Edward.

"_I had a wonderful few days. Sorry for being so quiet, we were trying to get a few things sorted before we flew out. We're on board now; I will be in touch as soon as I land in Chicago. Is it too early to say I miss you? Edward."_

I don't have time to reply straight away, but I will do it before he lands, so he has something nice to read when he gets to Chicago. This distance thing sucks already.

Tanya's assistant is once again driving me mad with the clack of her nails on the keyboard. I bet she's pissing around on the internet and not doing any real work. Maybe she's typing nonsense just to piss me off. Or maybe she's writing out my official warning for fucking up.

This train of thought is getting me nowhere, and I consider pulling my phone back out to reply to Edward. Before I can, though, Tanya opens her office door and calls me through.

She doesn't even bother to offer me a drink, and I try not to cringe at the state of her office. At least the seat of my chair is clear of papers.

I settle down, and she doesn't even offer a greeting before starting off with the questions. "So, Carlisle. Care to explain what I saw?"

"What exactly did you see?" I'm not about to give anything more away than I need to.

She sighs. "I saw you kiss Edward Masen, exactly what I told you in my email."

"I think you probably saw Edward Masen kiss me," I correct.

Tanya tilts her head at me. "What?"

"Edward kissed me, not the other way around." I shift in my seat. Even if it's the truth, I'm still a little uncomfortable talking about it.

"So you're accusing him of harassment?"

My eyes widen at Tanya's words, that wasn't what I meant at all. "I didn't say that; I said he kissed me."

"Stop talking around this in circles, Carlisle. What's going on?" Tanya is clearly getting annoyed, so I decide to give her some information.

"Edward and I are in a relationship."

"Is this a business relationship? Is he paying you extra?"

What the fuck? I can't help but let my anger seep into my tone. "Are you asking if I'm his whore?"

Tanya stays quiet, merely raising an eyebrow at me, unwilling to let my words affect her.

"I'm not a whore." I confirm. "It's a consensual, non-business relationship. We are dating."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since about three days ago."

"You don't expect me to believe that, do you?"

I shrug. It's probably rude, but I don't know what she wants me to say. Edward and I _have_ been dating for the last three days – technically.

Tanya sighs, and taps her ridiculously long fingernails against her desk.

"I'm not sure what to do about this," she admits. "It's hardly usual. After what happened with Victoria James, I'd have thought you'd be off the idea of dating clients for life."

"She was a fucking sleaze. Can women be sleazes? Whatever, she was one. She's the wrong gender for me, anyway."

"Well, I guess that's true. That wasn't how Edward approached having a relationship with you, was it? Oh God, Carlisle, tell me it was Edward who initiated it, or else we could be in for the lawsuit of our lives."

"It was Edward. He was more, uh, tactful than Victoria."

"That's something, I guess." She pauses again, sipping her drink and staring at me. I'm not sure what she wants me to say, so I keep quiet. I'm not going to talk myself into trouble.

I was expecting more questions about how the relationship started, so Tanya's next enquiry surprises me.

"Does he still want to use the service?"

I frown. "Why wouldn't he?"

"Maybe, unlike some, he doesn't want to mix business with pleasure." She gives me a pointed look, and I can't quite meet her gaze. I'm aware that developing a relationship with Edward isn't the most professional thing I've ever done.

"As far as I know, he is. He even wondered if you were planning on advertising the business in America."

"How would we do that?"

"I don't know. I'm just the monkey who presses the pedals and turns the steering wheel, remember?"

"Carlisle, you're still in trouble here, don't get smart."

Jesus, I'm being reprimanded like a fucking five-year-old.

"Well, I don't know what his plans are; it was just something he half mentioned. You'd have to talk to him if you wanted any details." I don't even think he was being serious when he suggested it, but I'm not going to tell Tanya that, I need to keep her sweet.

"I've already spoken to him."

"What?"

"I rang him when I got back to the office. I needed to be sure that you weren't being improper."

I just about manage to resist snorting. I'm fairly sure what Edward and I have been up to is anything but proper.

"What did he say?" I'm quite intrigued.

"Pretty much what you did. He may have also added that it was none of my business what you do when you're not on my time."

I grin. That sounds like Edward.

Tanya raises an eyebrow at me. "You were on my time this morning, Carlisle. Don't get too cocky."

I try to use her words to temper my grin, but I'm fairly sure that there's not much she can say now that Edward's confirmed how our relationship began.

"We need to look at how your schedule and pay is devised. If he wants a week away like he did a few months back, then we'll have to look at how I'm paying you for it. I'm not funding a week away with your boyfriend under the pretence of work."

What she's saying is fairly reasonable, but I have to argue a little. "If I'm driving him, though, I'm still working. I'm not losing a week's worth of pay just because you have an issue with it. Edward won't want anyone else driving him, either."

"I know, Carlisle. I'm trying to work with you here; stop being a dick about it."

She's my boss, and probably shouldn't be speaking to me like that, but she's also a friend, so I let it go.

"All I'm saying is that we need to think about things," she continues. "If you're driving Edward somewhere local then we'll pay you as usual. Hell, if you want, we can try and work your schedule so you don't have anyone to drive afterwards."

I really need to keep my mouth shut, that's a huge concession from her, and a pretty nice thing to do.

Once she sees I'm not about to interrupt again, she carries on. "I'm not sure what to do about trips away. You'll be paid for the driving, of course. I'm just not entirely happy paying for you to have a holiday."

I can see what she means. Usually, if we are on long trips like that, we are compensated for the time we spend on them because, if we stayed local, we could get more journeys in – and therefore more pay.

"Can you leave it with me, Carlisle? I'm not entirely sure what to do about this. Do you understand why I'm hesitant?"

I nod, but don't say anything else.

"Is this relationship likely to continue? I don't want to bust a gut trying to figure things out, only for it to end."

"God forbid the dissolution of my relationship causes you to work unnecessarily, Tanya." I am probably needlessly rude to her, but the thought of my relationship with Edward ending is not a happy one. To her credit, Tanya says nothing, waiting for me to carry on speaking. "It's likely to continue, yes. I hope it does, anyway."

"Okay. Can I talk to you as a friend, now? Off the record?"

"If you want."

"Please be careful. I do a lot of research on our regular clients. Edward Masen is abrasive, and seems willing to do pretty much anything to get ahead in business. I hope that doesn't transfer to his private life, too."

"He's a different guy when we're together," I tell her. He really is. He's almost incompatible with the man who first stepped into my car.

"Well, just be careful. Never feel obliged to do anything because he employs you, either. I know this is a business, but I've told you before that your welfare comes first. He can make do with another driver if necessary, or he can take his custom elsewhere," she warns. "I'll be speaking to him about whatever decision I reach about your schedule, too."

"Thanks, Tanya. He's been really decent so far." If we ignore what happened with Lauren, that is. "I think he's as uncomfortable with the fact that I work for him as I am. If we didn't, though, it would seriously cut down on the time we can see each other."

"I get that, and I'm not going to lay down the law and say he can't request you to drive him. But if you have sex in the car, I will kill you."

I grimace at the thought, and Tanya laughs. "I forgot about your neurosis; I guess sex in the car is off the table."

"It's so far off the table, it can't even see the table. There isn't a car detailing service in the world that would make the car clean enough to get back in."

"That's one thing off my mind, at least."

"I thought you were in friend-mode, not boss-mode right now," I remind her.

"Oh yeah. It's difficult when I'm behind this desk; I forget to be a friend. We should go out sometime; I bet Garrett would be up for a night out."

"I'm sure he would. I'll speak to him about it and try and get something sorted."

Tanya smiles at me, and shuffles a few papers on her desk, signalling that the conversation is done.

"Okay, Carlisle, I'll be in touch about how we're going to manage this. You're finished for the day now, right?" As if she isn't the one who arranges my day.

"Yeah, I'm all done."

"I'll let you go, then. I'm sure you've got some sleep to catch up on." She grins at me, and I roll my eyes, getting up to leave as I do.

"Goodbye, Tanya. And if we're still speaking as friends, this office needs a fucking good tidy."

She throws a scrunched up ball of paper at me as I slip out of the door, I bet she doesn't pick it up for weeks.

~-DTD-~

Garrett barrels through my door at six o'clock that evening. I've managed to nap a little, and have my phone out, debating how to reply to Edward's message as Garrett flops down on the couch next to me.

"Why are you here?" I ask him.

"I thought you might need a drinking buddy tonight." He grabs the remote control off the couch and puts some sport on.

"I'm working tomorrow, and so are you," I point out.

"Pfft, details."

"I don't need a drinking buddy anyway. All is well in my life," I smile.

"You don't just drink because you're sad, Carlisle. Aren't you missing Edward, though?"

"Well, yes. But not so much I think a massive hangover tomorrow will make it better."

"Fair enough." He is silent for a minute, watching whatever is on the television. He's not quiet for long, though. "Want a beer?"

I roll my eyes. "One. They're in the fridge."

He grabs a couple of drinks and sits back down next to me. His tie is loose around his neck, and his shirtsleeves are pushed up. He hates dressing smartly for work; I don't know how he manages all day without taking his tie off. He's always uncomfortable.

"So, how was the rest of your time with Edward?"

"It was good." I can't help the slight blush that appears on my cheeks, and I drink some of my beer to try to cool down.

"Oh!" Garrett exclaims. "That good, huh? No wonder you don't need alcohol to wind down – you got laid."

I shrug, not really willing to get into this with him.

"So he hasn't fucked anything up yet, then? Well, apart from you."

"Jesus. No, not yet. Your faith in him is astounding."

"Edward's track record isn't the best, Carlisle," he reminds me.

"I know. But everything was fine this morning. He called me his boyfriend to the check in clerk, and kissed me at the airport." I can't help the smile that appears on my face as I remember.

"Oh, my God! Do you need a notebook to start doodling your names in? You need to get your ass onto Facebook and then you can update your relationship status. Maybe put a few updates on about how you're missing your man."

I shove his shoulder. "Fuck off, Gar."

"I'm glad it's going okay, though, C. Honestly. I know I give him a hard time, but it's only because I love you."

"How much have you drunk?" I grab the hand that's holding his beer bottle, and hold it up to the light, pretending to check how much is left.

"Here I am, trying to be nice to you, and you take the piss. How rude," Garrett grumbles, and I laugh.

"I know. Thanks, man; it means a lot."

He grins at me and we watch a little of the football while I fill him in on what happened with Tanya. Garrett thinks it's hilarious, of course.

"How much did she want to know? Did she want to know whether you'd slept together yet?"

"No, Jesus. She's not obsessed with my sex life like you are." I remember Tanya's suggestion, and mention it, hoping to get him away from this conversation. "Oh, she wants us all to have a night out, soon."

"Is she going to bring any of her hot friends?"

I roll my eyes. "I'll ask when we sort it out."

"Good. I can't deal with you having a better sex life than I do when your partner is an ocean away. How depressing."

"My sex life will always be better than yours, no matter how much you're getting. You bat for the wrong team."

"How would you know my sex life is unfulfilling?"

"Women are full of ridiculous emotions and complicated needs. I don't need to sleep with one to realise that. I've seen TV shows, and heard you whinge about girlfriends."

"Oh well, in that case you're obviously completely informed." His tone is laced with sarcasm, and it makes me laugh. I pick up my phone to text Tanya. The least I can do is try to make sure Garrett gets laid; he's been looking after me enough over the last few weeks.

I decide it's time to text Edward back; I don't want him landing and not hearing anything from me. I figure he will land around the time I'm going to bed, and I don't to miss out on talking to him completely.

"_It's not too early at all. Although I'm basing that on the fact I'm missing you, too – so if we're weird, then we're weird together. I hear that Tanya has been speaking to you – thank you for setting her straight. I still have a job, so whatever you said worked. Let me know you've landed safely, and I will email you or something in the morning. International text rates aren't my best friend. Carlisle."_

I'm such a wordy bastard.

Garrett orders us a Chinese takeaway while we watch the football. Well, he watches the football and I watch my phone.

He stays so long that he ends up crashing here for the night. I fire a quick text off to Edward, just to let him know. I have a spare room but Garrett is unwilling to use it, and is sprawled out across my bed.

"_Garrett is staying here tonight. I think if I text you and tell you every time it happens, I'll be bankrupted by my phone bill before I know it. I wanted to assure you that nothing will happen, though, you can trust me. And Garrett. Goodnight, Edward."_

I wake in the morning with Garrett lying all over me again. He's such a cuddler. I clamber out of bed and check my phone noticing a couple of texts from Edward – one letting me know he had arrived safely, and another about Garrett.

"_I don't mind about you and Garrett. I'm fairly sure if you wanted each other, you'd be together. No other men in your bed though, please. Apart from me. Edward."_

Firing up my laptop as I eat my breakfast, I send him the email I promised, before hauling Garrett out of bed so I can get on with my day.

~-DTD-~

We fall into an easy routine over the following weeks. While my working hours are all over the place, Edward seems to be working fairly set – long – hours. When I wake in the morning, I email Edward. He replies whenever he wakes up, and we spend the day trying to catch each other via email.

It's not an ideal way to spend our time, and sometimes we're both so busy that we hardly hear from one another, but it works well enough, for now.

Edward is busy coming up with reasons to make regular trips to London, and I am busy working all the hours I can, so that I have time off when he finally makes it over to visit. Tanya is remarkably helpful, actually, allowing me to work extra hours so that I build up some leave.

One night, a couple of weeks after Edward left, I get a phone call at around eleven o'clock.

"Hi, Carlisle."

"Hey, Edward. It's early for you, isn't it? Shouldn't you still be working?" My working-out of time differences has improved greatly over the last few weeks, but I'm still not entirely confident in it.

"Alice, Jasper, and Bella are visiting from New York, so I've left work early. My parents want us to eat together."

"Oh, it'll be nice for you to see them again." I still can't imagine only seeing my sister and nephews a couple of times a year; I feel terrible for Edward.

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to it. I've bought Bella some books, so hopefully I'll still be her favourite uncle." I can hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm sure you will be. Just hang out with her a bit, that's all kids want, really." And ice-cream.

"I will do. She's easier to deal with than my parents, anyway."

That doesn't sound good. "Are they on your case about something?"

Edward is quiet for a moment. "They want me to get a girlfriend and settle down. They think I work too much."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

There's an awkward silence on the line, as I digest what he's said. Sometimes I forget he's not out of the closet yet.

"I'm going to tell them, I promise. It's just never the right time."

"It's fine, Edward. I know it's only early days in our relationship. I don't expect you to rush into anything."

"Okay." His tone is final; clearly, we are done with that conversation. "Anyway, I was calling to let you know that I've sorted my next trip over."

My mood brightens immediately. "When? Have you spoken to Tanya yet?"

"August twenty-third. That's a Monday, so I'm trying to swing coming over on the Friday before, and leaving on the Monday or Tuesday after. I haven't spoken to Tanya yet, I wanted to clear it with you first."

I pull up my calendar on my laptop. There's not much in it work-wise yet, but Esme wants me to help out with the kids over the summer break. I'll have to check with her, too.

"That works for me, I think. When will you be free?"

"I'm hoping to do the same as last time, work the Monday through Thursday and have the rest of the time free."

"Okay. We might have to deal with Jared and Seth for a couple of days, if that's alright with you? They'll be on school holidays, and Esme can't take the full six weeks off, so we split it between us."

"That's fine. We can take them on the paddle boats in Hyde Park or something." It makes me so happy that he's willing to include the people I care about in our plans. "We will have time for just us though, right?"

"Yeah. I'll make sure of it. Garrett can always take the kids over the weekends if Esme is working." He'll be pissed off that he is missing out on a weekend of drinking, but he can deal with it. It's a holiday weekend anyway, so I'm sure he'll find some time for alcohol.

"Are we going to meet up with Garrett, too?" Edward asks. "Emmett is coming over with me, although I'm not sure he'll do the extended trip, again."

"We can do. I'm sure Garrett will be happy to see you again. I think Esme might want to meet you properly, too, if you're spending time with the kids." Edward is quiet for a minute, and I start to worry. "I haven't scared you off, have I?"

He laughs softly. "No, not at all. It's nice to feel so included in your life."

"If you want to write up a brief for Tanya about how I can advertise her business over there – that would be a good way to include yourself, too," I say with a grin.

"When I find a spare few hours, I'll get that done. Maybe it can be something to do on the plane. Or I could make Emmett do it."

I roll my eyes, even though I know Edward can't see me. "Poor Emmett."

"He's fine. He's paid well, and he gets to travel over the world. It's not the worst job he could have, despite what you think of my management style."

I can hear him fumbling a little before he curses and a door slams.

"Jesus, what's going on there?"

"I just got home. I'm not great at opening the door one-handed," he admits.

"Oh, okay. I thought your house was being invaded or something."

"No, just me being uncoordinated," he laughs. "I'm on my couch now, so I'm limiting any further damage to myself or the surrounding area."

"Well, that's something. I need you in one piece when you get here."

He clears his throat a little, but changes the subject. "So if I get in touch with Tanya tomorrow, will that work for you?"

"Yeah, I'll speak to her about booking the surrounding time off, I'm sure she'll be okay with it. Even if I can't get it all off, I can make sure she limits my jobs."

"I'd rather you were off completely."

"Me too."

"I might mention to Tanya that I could do with you having the time off. Maybe offer her some financial incentive."

"You're going to pay her to give me the time off?" This man doesn't know the meaning of the word 'no,' I swear.

"That or request that you drive me all over the place on my free days. We don't actually have to go anywhere, right?"

"Yes we do. They take mileages from the cars so that we can be paid expenses back. Anyway, that's ridiculous; you can't buy your way out of every problem we face." Much as I'd like him to, sometimes.

"I can try," he murmurs.

"I'm sure that Tanya will give me the time off. Let's not worry about it until it happens."

"Okay." Edward sighs and I can practically see him resting his head on the back of the couch. I wish I was there with him.

"It's late there, isn't it?" he asks. "I need to get ready to face my family, anyway, so I'd better go."

I rub my eyes a little, the mention of the time reminding me exactly how tired I am. "Okay. I hope you have a nice evening."

"You too. Oh, I mean, uh, sleep well."

There's a pause, and I check that the call is still connected.

It is.

"I miss you, Carlisle." Edward's voice is quiet, and it makes me smile. It also makes my heart ache a little.

"I miss you too, Edward. At least now we have a date to look forward to."

"Yeah, that's true. I can't wait. I wish I could buy off time with money – make it go a little faster."

"That's something I could get behind," I chuckle.

"God, don't talk about getting behind things when I need to end the call, it doesn't help my self control."

I groan; I hadn't even thought of that.

"You need to get Skype," he tells me. "I need to be able to see you."

"I'll work on it when I'm next free. I never saw the point before, but the benefits seem a little more obvious now." I'll also be able to have a peek at where he lives. I wonder if he keeps it tidy.

"Good. Now, I really need to go before we get into all the things we can do over Skype. Goodnight Carlisle. I'll try to email you when I get home."

"Okay. Enjoy your evening, Edward. I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye, Carlisle."

The call disconnects, and I find myself staring at my phone for a few minutes. I'm not sure what I'm expecting it to do, but I jump when it vibrates in my hand.

"_I've emailed Tanya and had confirmation back for August twentieth. (Who is the poor sucker who's working at this time on a Friday night? And you think I'm a dickhead employer.) Six weeks to go. I can't wait. Edward."_

* * *

**Tiny footnote to say that should DTD get pulled by the powers that be, for whatever reason, info about where else it would be posted will appear on my profile.**_  
_


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. I have been tinkering - all mistakes are mine.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

I can hear the hesitation in Edward's voice, even through the phone line. "I'm going out with some of the guys from work tonight."

My hand freezes, cleaning the counter-tops momentarily forgotten at his words. Memories of the last time he went out with his work colleagues flood my brain, and I fight to push them away. That was a different time, a different stage in our relationship. I try to ignore the fact that he was a lot closer to me that time, and hadn't been sex-deprived for over a month.

"Oh, right." I don't really know what else to say. I can't even get rid of the concern in my voice. I'm a fucking idiot.

"We closed a big deal this week, so people want to celebrate."

"Is Emmett going?" Maybe if Emmett is there, he can make sure that Edward isn't tempted.

"Yeah, he is."

There are a few moments of uncomfortable silence. I don't want to feel how I am, but I can't help where my head is going. Edward is clearly nervous about telling me his plans, and my reaction doesn't help at all.

Edward finally breaks the silence. "You're out with Garrett tonight, right?"

A flash of anger shoots through me; it feels like he's implying that I have no right to be uncomfortable about his plans because I'm going out with my best friend.

"Yes. I don't have a track record of bringing home random fucks, though, so you don't need to worry." That's totally untrue, and Edward calls me on it immediately.

"That's not what you've told me before."

"Well, I don't do it when I'm in a relationship."

"Seriously? I thought this was forgiven? You spent the whole time we were together last month telling me to stop apologising, Carlisle."

He's right, of course, and I run my hand through my hair as I try to calm down. It's two o'clock in the afternoon, and I wonder if it's too early for a beer.

"I'm sorry. I just freaked out a bit." It's definitely not too early for a beer. I grab one out of the fridge and collapse on my sofa. Emotionally charged conversations are fucking draining.

"I noticed," he sighs. "Look, I'm telling you so that you don't freak out about it, just like you tell me when Garrett stays over. I'm telling you because you have nothing to worry about."

"Okay. Just... be careful," I plead. I hope he's strong enough to not fall prey to his work colleagues encouragements to find a woman.

"I will, I promise. Our relationship is what I want, nothing else." His voice is soft but strong, and I blow out a deep breath at his reassurances. He knows the right things to say. All I can do now is trust him... and get so horrendously drunk tonight that I black out.

"So, what have you got planned with Garrett?" he asks.

"Oh, we're going out with Tanya and a couple of her friends. Garrett wants to get laid, I want to get drunk, and Tanya wants to hear all about you."

"I don't even know where to start with all that information," Edward laughs. "Is that Garrett's only reason for going out?"

"Yeah. He made me ask Tanya to bring friends."

"Do you think any of them will go for it?"

"I'm sure they will. He's got a real way about him; apparently he's irresistible."

"I can see that," Edward murmurs, and I laugh. He's got such a soft spot for Garrett, it's no wonder he lets him get away with being so rude.

"What does Tanya want to know?" he asks. "I thought all that was sorted?"

"Business-wise, it is. This is a friend-style inquisition. She wants to know about you and me, how we got together, that sort of stuff." In other words, an interrogation with the assistance of alcohol. It could end up being a long night.

"Isn't that weird?"

"No, not really. She was a friend before she was my boss, so it's only natural she's curious. We deliberately left this until we'd figured the business-side of things out."

"Oh, right." He pauses for a second, but I know he's gearing up to say something else, so I keep quiet. Eventually, he finds his words. "What are you going to tell her?"

"Depends what she asks," I tease.

He laughs softly. "I see how it is. Well, I should probably start work, I guess. Text me later? I can pick up the extra on your phone bill, if it's a real problem."

His thoughtfulness makes me grin. "I think one night's worth of messages should be alright; I've been working loads recently. Thanks for the offer, though."

"Okay. Have a good night tonight."

"You too. Oh, have a good day at work first. I'll never get my head around the time difference."

"The time difference is a pain in the ass, that's all that anyone needs to know about it," he laughs. "Thanks, Carlisle. See you soon."

"Bye, Edward."

I end the call, and throw my head back against the sofa, my eyes taking in the room from a different angle. There's some dust on a shelf of my bookcase, and I resist the urge to do something about it immediately. Edward's plans for the evening have thrown me for a loop, and I need to do something to stop myself from thinking about everything that can go wrong.

Sighing, I stand up and get back to cleaning.

~-DTD-~

Squeezing past Tanya on the bench-seat, I roll my eyes at Garrett and his attempt to talk Tanya's friend, Kate, into bed. It seems to be working, in all fairness. Her eyes have a certain look of adoration as he regales her with untrue stories of heroism. His personal favourite is how he rescued a kid from drowning in a river. It is based in truth – but what really happened was simply that he refused to let Jared swim in a river once. The story has been embellished into a daring feat of bravery, where he battled currents and rocks to save my nephew.

It never happened.

"So, what the hell happened with Edward, then? I didn't even know he was gay; anything I could find out about him online was with women." Tanya pulls my focus away from my best friend, and I take a minute to decide how to answer her. Formally, Edward and I were only dating for three days when Tanya found out about us, and that's what she knows. In the end, I decide to focus on the second half of her statement.

"He isn't gay. Well, he wasn't. He is now, I guess."

"What?"

I sip my drink, and grin at her cockily. "I turned him, what can I say?"

"What really happened?"

"Honestly? Pretty much that. I don't really know. He just decided he was attracted to me, I'm attracted to him, obviously." Tanya nods in agreement – Edward is hot. "So we decided to give things a go. I mean obviously, there was a bit more to the discussions than that, but essentially, that's it."

"Aren't you worried it's just a passing phase for a man who is used to getting everything he wants?" She squeezes my leg, apologising for her words.

"Not really. I mean it's a possibility, I guess, but we've talked about it. Garrett has had a word with him about it, too," I laugh.

"Oh, wow. How did that go down?"

"Okay, I think. You know what Garrett's like; he's a charming bastard even when he's being a dickhead."

"That's true. I can't imagine anyone telling Edward Masen how to behave, though."

"He's different in person, once he gets rid of his business attitude, anyway. I guess the situation we are in has put him on the back foot a bit, so he's a little less... insistent about things. It helps that he's not immune to Garrett's charm."

"How's Garrett dealing with it? You guys are joined at the hip usually; you're so protective of one another." Tanya sips her drink, offering me a raised eyebrow over her wine glass. She knows so well how my friendship with Garrett works.

I shrug. "After his initial distrust of Edward he's been okay. He's waiting for it to fail, though, I think. But in the meantime he's got quite friendly with Edward's assistant."

"Oh, God."

My brow furrows as I try to figure out the reason for Tanya's bizarre response. Suddenly it hits me. "His assistant is a guy, his name's Emmett."

"And they're... you know... friendly?" Now it's Tanya's turn to be confused.

"They're friends; nothing more. They bonded over the World Cup."

She nods. "I see. That makes a lot more sense than what I was thinking."

"I'm not sure I want to know what you were thinking."

"Probably not," she admits.

There's a break in the conversation, and we look towards our companions to see Garrett's face buried in Kate's neck, his hand wandering up and down her back, her eyes closed. Clearly his hero story worked.

"That's why I was surprised." Tanya says. "He's so into his women."

"I'm sure the right man could turn him," I tell her.

"Are you offering? I'd quite like to be left with some friends who he hasn't fucked and run."

"Who says I haven't already?" I grin.

"Jesus. I don't want to know."

I laugh, finishing off my drink. "Another round?" I ask loudly, trying to break whatever spell Garrett and Kate are under.

"You're very generous tonight, C. Anyone would think you'd found a sugar daddy." Garrett smiles at me innocently.

"Just for that, dickhead, the next round is on you. Mine's a beer, thanks."

He laughs, but collects everyone's orders, taking Kate with him to the bar.

"You will be careful, won't you, Carlisle?"

"Huh?" My brain is contending with too much alcohol to figure out what Tanya means.

"With Edward."

"Yeah, I told you I would."

"Maybe next time he comes up, we can all go out? It's only a few weeks off now, right?"

"Three weeks, yeah. I'll mention meeting up to him. I'm not sure what our plans are, yet. Thanks for giving me the time off, by the way."

"Hey, no talking shop on a night out." She shoves my shoulder gently.

"Sorry, boss," I grin.

~-DTD-~

I stumble through my door at some point after two o'clock in the morning. Maybe it's after three o'clock; I can't quite make the numbers on my phone out correctly. I detour into the kitchen on the way to my sofa, to grab a glass of water and some painkillers – my hangover prevention trick, which never really works.

Flopping onto the couch, I pull my phone out of my pocket, and squint at it, trying to figure out if there is a message from Edward waiting for me. We've texted a little throughout the night, but I'm fairly sure my texts are quite unintelligible by now. It's only early for him, no matter if it's two or three a.m. here, so he is still fairly sober.

There's no message waiting, so I flick the TV on and drink my pint of water. I was supposed to be staying at Garrett's place tonight, but he managed to charm Kate into going home with him. A whole night of listening to him have sex didn't sound like a fun way to spend my time, so I decided to shell out a small fortune for a taxi home.

I manage to wait about five minute before checking my phone again, as if I somehow missed it vibrate _and_ ring. Obviously, there is nothing there.

My mind wanders to what Edward might be doing. He'd been in touch to let me know that they were moving on to a club from wherever that had eaten. I haven't heard much else from him. I was hoping that drinking heavily would mean that I'd forget about what he was up to, but it seems to just focus my thoughts onto him. I'm glad that he's out and being sociable; I don't want him to be a hermit, but I can't stop myself from worrying about what is going on wherever he is.

The television on at this hour is mindless, and I find myself drifting off. I have enough presence of mind to set my glass down on the table, but I can't quite bring myself to haul my ass to bed.

The incessant ringing of my phone wakes me. It's early, but there is the hint of daylight creeping through the window. Fortunately, I haven't been asleep long enough for my hangover to kick in; I'm fairly sure I'm still drunk.

I fish my phone from between the couch cushions, and answer it without looking at who is calling.

"Hello?" I mumble.

Edward's accent immediately clues me into who it is; my brain isn't awake enough to figure out voices yet. "Shit, sorry. I didn't think about how late it was there."

"It's okay. What's up?"

He doesn't even pause before he answers, almost frantic. "There were girls there tonight."

My heart lurches, but I try to keep it light. "They do make up half of the world population, sadly; they're impossible to avoid."

"One of them was sort of famous. I don't know who she is, but some of the others did. Fucking V.I.P. areas. She sat on my lap, people were taking pictures. Nothing happened, I swear, but I didn't want you to see a picture somewhere and flip out." He talks quickly, desperate for me to believe what he's saying.

"She sat on your lap?"

"Not for long. I shoved her away as soon as I could."

"Okay."

He pauses for a second. "Okay?"

"Yeah. You've told me that's what happened, I believe you." I rub my eyes, trying to wake myself up a little. My thoughts are drunk-swirling around my brain, but I'm fairly sure if Edward wanted to disappear and fuck someone, he'd do it. He could end our relationship right now with no harm to himself – he never has to see me again.

Why am I more fucking rational when I'm half-asleep and drunk, than awake and sober?

"Thanks, Carlisle."

"S'okay." And it really is. Maybe the alcohol is mellowing me out, but I can't bring myself to get worked up about what he said. It could have been worse. I am hit with the realisation that it could still get worse. "Hey, what time is it there?"

"Uh, around eleven-thirty at night, I think."

"Are you still out?"

"No, I'm back at my apartment. I didn't want to stay and have to deal with everything there. I did my bit, I joined in on the celebration, and left after everyone was so drunk that they won't notice how early it is."

"I like your style." On the other hand, I hate that he's stuck in the closet and has to do things like that.

"Thanks. How was your night?"

"It was good. Garrett got laid."

"Does your happiness rely on Garrett's sexual satisfaction?"

I laugh. "No, but Garrett's happiness depends on his sexual satisfaction; if he's a grumpy dickhead, then it rubs off on me. He was annoyed that I was getting laid more often than he was when you were here. My average was better than his for a couple of weeks, and he can't deal with that."

"He knows we slept together?"

"He guessed, I didn't tell him."

"How did he guess?"

"I don't know, post-coital bliss? Does that last for an entire day?"

Edward chuckles, and his voice becomes slightly husky, "It does when you're with me."

"Alright, ego."

"You started it."

I guess I did ask for his comment, but I'm not about to admit it to him. "Maybe."

"If we're talking about it, Emmett said I was disgustingly cheerful on the flight home. So it wasn't just you."

"Well, that's something then, thank you. Consider my ego slightly boosted." I finish my sentence off with a yawn. I'm so tired, but it's so rare to get a chance to chat with Edward, so I try to stifle it. He hears me though, of course.

"I guess I should let you get back to sleep. I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's okay; it's nice to hear your voice."

"There's only three weeks until we get to see each other in person, now, too."

"Oh, yeah, I realised that earlier. I'm planning on losing tomorrow to sleeping a hangover off too, so by the time I wake up, it'll be even less time to wait."

"That's an... interesting way of looking at it."

"Whatever it takes."

"I can see your point. Goodnight, Carlisle. I'll email you tomorrow."

"Night, Edward. Thanks for calling."

"Thanks for understanding." His voice is quiet, and it makes me smile. "Sleep well."

I end the call, and throw my phone down on the table. After I pour myself some more water, I drag myself to bed, pulling a blanket over my head in a vain attempt to block out some of the sunlight. It doesn't work at all, but it doesn't really matter; I'm completely exhausted, and sleep comes easily.

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars **_

_Pickup at LHR 11:00, Friday 20__th__ August. Meet at arrivals. Name "Masen." Drop off at 45 Park Lane._

.

Finally, the weeks have passed and it's time for Edward to visit again. He left Chicago after work yesterday – the middle of the night here. I have no idea what state he'll be in when he lands, whether or not he'll have got any sleep on the flight. Emmett chose to fly out on Sunday, staying until the following Sunday so that we can have a night out with Garrett while they're here.

I stand at the arrivals gate, keeping my eyes peeled for Tanya lurking around a corner. I wouldn't put it past her to check up on me. I'm carrying two cups of coffee – one for Edward and one for me – and I take a sip of mine as I see people flood through the arrivals gate.

Edward is out quickly, presumably due to only having one suitcase and his carry-on bag. He's still pushing them on a luggage trolley, though. God forbid he has to pull his suitcase on its wheels and carry his bag at the same time.

He reaches me, and leans in to kiss my cheek. I duck back, and he looks at me, hurt.

"I have to be professional while I'm on work hours. I promised Tanya."

"I thought you weren't one for following rules," Edward grins, as he takes his coffee from me. I grab his luggage trolley and we start to walk towards the doors.

"Not usually. Tanya is being really good about us, though, so I figured I'd better behave for a while."

"How will she even know?" His hand rests next to mine on the handle of the trolley, and his pinky finger creeps out to brush against mine.

"She saw us last time we were here, remember?" I don't move my hand away from his, though.

"I thought you were meant to do whatever the customer wants?"

I scrunch my nose at his words, and he cringes a little.

"Forget I said that. It was less... seedy... in my head."

Laughing, I unlock the car, and throw his luggage in.

"Does this mean I have to sit in the back, then?" he asks, a slight pout forming.

"I'm afraid so. Sorry."

"It's fine, I'll cope. Seeing the back of your head gives me ideas," he grins.

I roll my eyes, and pretend that I'm not now getting ideas too, as I roll the trolley back to a collection point.

Edward is in the car by the time I get back, and, as I climb into the driver's seat, I see that he's helped himself to a bottle of water.

"You know, for a client, you're pretty forward."

"Oh, you love me like this."

I pause at his words, meeting his sparkling green eyes in the mirror.

He shrugs. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," I smile.

I back the car out, and put my foot down, keen to get us back to his hotel as soon as I can. While I drive, we chat about our plans for the week. I'm off for the rest of today and tomorrow, and my only job on Sunday is picking Emmett up from the airport. Edward and I are both working from Monday until Thursday, and then we both have the rest of the time off, until he goes home.

I hope it's enough.

"If you miss me too much, you can stay at the hotel through the week," Edward offers. "I won't complain, although I guess you might. I'll be pretty tired."

"I'll see where my jobs are based. Sometimes it's easier to start off from home, but I guess being central can't really hurt."

"Are you babysitting Jared and Seth sometime?"

"Yeah, Friday and Saturday. You don't have to hang out with us if you don't want to." I've already made Garrett look after them for me tomorrow, though, so I can't palm them off the weekend after. Edward will just have to deal with it, or not see me until the evenings.

"I want to. I've been looking up stuff for us all to do," he admits. "There's so much in London for kids, I'm not sure we'll fit it all in."

"There's a possibility that I might have to look after them for a while on the Monday, too. I know that's your last full day in England, though, so I was going to ask Garrett. It's a bank holiday here, so he'll be off work."

"Will he mind being given late notice for it?"

"Probably not." Garrett doesn't care about anything not being planned to the finest detail. It drives me mad; I couldn't live like that. I write a fucking "to-do" list every morning.

"Can we see how Friday and Saturday go, then? I'd quite like you all to myself on Monday, but I don't want to have to cut out some of the stuff I've seen for the kids if I can help it. I'm here for Tuesday morning, too, so we can always have a day in bed then."

I adopt an affronted look, although I'm not sure I manage it convincingly. "I didn't suggest we can spend all day in bed, pervert."

Edward laughs. "You know you want to spend all day in bed with me, Carlisle."

That sounds like heaven, but I'm not about to feed the man's ego anymore, so I change the subject.

"I don't think you're going to avoid Esme on this trip, by the way, unless you hide. She's got mad finding skills, though, so I wouldn't fancy your chances even then."

"It'll be fine. She'll love me."

"I'm her baby brother, don't count on it. How did you feel when Alice started dating Jasper?"

"Oh." He finally sees where I'm coming from. "Does she know about what happened?"

I know exactly what he's talking about, without needing any more specific references. "No, she doesn't. Only Garrett knows."

He nods, and sits back in his seat, lost in his thoughts for a few minutes.

"Tanya thinks we've only been dating since the last time you were over, by the way. She might end up coming out for the night out on Saturday, so remember to stick to that story."

"Okay. You might have to remind me of what everyone knows before I meet them."

I laugh. "Don't worry too much. I'll kick you if you're veering off-script."

"Thanks."

We pull up outside the hotel, and Edward jumps out to check –in while I unload his, and my, bags. I don't plan on leaving the hotel until I need to pick Emmett up in two days' time. Maybe I'll venture out for a walk in the park with Edward, but I plan to spend the bulk of the next forty-eight hours in a hotel room. We've got over eight weeks of being apart to make up for.

I park the car, and try not to run to meet Edward in the hotel lobby. I don't want to look like an over-eager moron, even if I am one.

In the lift, it's difficult to keep our hands off each other. The porter is keeping his eyes firmly on the doors, and away from us, but we know we still have to behave.

Edward leans down to whisper in my ear. "When are you officially off-duty?"

"I guess when you got out of the car."

"So I don't have to worry about Tanya hiding in my hotel suite?"

The lift arrives on Edward's floor, and the porter leads us to his door.

"I don't think she's that keen to see me naked, to be honest. I doubt she'd be in there."

Edward laughs, and tips the porter as we walk into the room, telling him that he doesn't need to stay, we can sort our own bags out.

As the door closes behind him, Edward turns to me. "Can you cope if we don't unpack our bags right away?"

I hate myself for it, but I grimace at the thought of crumpled clothing, and he laughs.

"Come on, let's get it done quickly, and then I can get you naked."

I pull him to me for a kiss, thanking God that I have found someone so understanding. I hate my ridiculous neurosis. Logically I know that the clothes have been in a bag all morning, and I packed them neatly, so even if I left them for a couple more hours it wouldn't make too much difference. I can't handle it, though – they need unpacking.

We get it done fairly quickly, although I slow the whole thing down by being finicky about how the clothes are hung up. I think Edward's patience is wearing thin after the fifth time I rearrange something that he's put away.

"How about I order us up some lunch?"

I pause as I'm hanging up one of my t-shirts. "For now?"

"Well, it can be for now, or a couple of hours?"

"It won't take me that long to do this, I promise." God, he thinks I'm fucking nuts. He might be right.

"I know, that," he laughs. "I meant we might need some time for, uh, getting reacquainted?"

"Oh! Okay, yeah. What time is it now?"

"Twelve-thirty."

"It'll take me another fifteen minutes or so to do this I think; why don't you go and grab a shower or something? We can order food for about three-ish? Gives us time to reacquaint and get cleaned up afterwards."

"Are you telling me I need to shower, or suggesting that I do?" he grins.

"Uh, suggesting? That was a long flight." I can't even fathom how it wasn't the first thing on his mind. I know I'm hot but, seriously, he must be feeling grimy.

Edward walks towards me, and kisses the top of my head. It's almost patronising, but I let him get away with it. I have as-good-as told him that he's gross.

He calls down to order some food, and I finish off the unpacking while he's in the shower. He hasn't got enough stuff with him for a weeks-worth of work, plus spending time outside of work, so I'm not sure what he has planned.

He emerges from the shower, and I have to gather my wits again before I ask him what's going on. Half-naked Edward does nothing for my mental functioning.

"Oh, Emmett is bringing my other suitcase on Sunday."

"Are you kidding me?" I can't hide the complete incredulity in my voice; I'm so shocked he can't even be bothered to bring out all his stuff himself.

"My dry-cleaning wasn't done on time!" he protests. "I need my suits for work, but they weren't ready."

"Okay, that's not quite as bad as I thought."

"Do you really think I'm such a dick?"

"I think you're used to people doing anything you ask them to. It must breed complacency."

"You never do what I tell you to," he grins, bearing down on me.

"What can I say? An air of entitlement doesn't turn me on."

Edward laughs, moving his hands to the buttons of my shirt and starting to undo them. "I think you quite like me as I am, even if you think I'm a bit... demanding."

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just after your money," I laugh.

"I don't think anyone could deal with me who didn't want to, even for a ridiculous sum of money." My shirt buttons undone, he runs his hands over my shoulders to get it off me.

"Your employees do."

"That's different, it's their job. They lose that, they lose everything. You lose me, you still have your job; your life doesn't change. Not that a whole bunch of people haven't quit their jobs because they can't put up with me."

"Why are we talking about this?" I groan, as his hands start to undo the button at my waistband.

"Because you think I'm an ass. I'm trying to persuade you that you like me that way."

"I don't like you being an ass. I like you being Edward."

"I'm good at being Edward around you; you bring it out in me." With one movement of his hands, he pushes my trousers to my ankles. "Do you want to hang them up?" he asks as I step out of them.

"There's dry-cleaning services here, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then shut the closet door, and I'll pretend I don't know they're lying in there." I pause to think about whether that will work, and pick them back up. "Although, on second thoughts, I might put them on that chair. I'll send my suit down to be cleaned when they bring up lunch."

Edward nods, pulling me out of the closet and pushing me in the general direction of the bed. He kicks the door shut and comes back over to me quickly.

His towel drops as he walks, but he is unconcerned. His hands cup my face, a moment of tenderness in our desperation. His head bows slightly, and his lips touch mine. My arms automatically wrap around his waist, and he groans as our bare chests meet, pulling back from our kiss.

"Fuck, I missed this. I missed you."

He kisses my neck softly, pushing me back slowly until I hit the bed. My hand goes to the back of his neck as I lie down; making sure that he can't get too far away from me. He lies on top of me, not hesitating to push our groins together, and I arch at the contact.

"Fuck, Carlisle," he says. "You're killing me. I'm not sure I'm going to last long enough to go until three o'clock."

I laugh. "Who cares? All that means is that we have longer in the shower afterwards. I overshot the time so we didn't feel rushed."

"I feel fucking rushed because I haven't seen you in fucking ages."

"Do you want to say 'fucking' a few more times? Is there something on your mind?" I tease.

"Well, now you mention it. I brought an airline-acceptable amount of lube with me. I had to check some websites to make sure lube was an allowed substance," he laughs.

"Was it even on a list?"

"No, but it wasn't listed under banned stuff, so I figured it was okay. I put it in my checked baggage, so at least I didn't have to carry it through security in one of those plastic bags. That could have been embarrassing."

I laugh at the image of Edward standing in the long, winding security lines without shoes or a belt, and clutching a plastic bag holding a tiny tube of toothpaste and a bottle of lube.

"What's so funny?"

I tell him, and he grins back. "I go through the fast-track security. No queuing for me."

Why doesn't that surprise me?

He hops off the bed, and grabs the bottle of lube and a condom, throwing them down next to me on the bed before returning to lie above me.

I pick it up. "Who are we using this on, then?" Edward's eyes widen, almost comically, and I laugh. "That answers that question." I hand him the bottle. "Get me ready."

Sitting up so he's straddling my waist, Edward runs his free hand down my chest until he hits the waistband of my underwear. He pulls slowly, moving backwards as he does, until I can kick them off my legs myself.

Once we're both naked, he sits back over me again, and licks his lips nervously. "I'm not saying never for... you know..." I raise my eyebrow at him, wanting him to be more explicit in what he means. He rolls his eyes back at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "I mean for you to, uh, fuck me."

I smile at him, and wait for him to continue.

"It's just something that will need working up to, I guess." He pops the cap of the lube open, and pours a little into his hand.

"We can always start working up to it now," I offer.

"No! Not now. I need you too much to be messing around now." His hand wraps around my cock, and I groan, almost forgetting what we're talking about.

"Maybe that's the best time to start, while you're all worked up. You do realise, by the way, that you're lubing me up to fuck you right now?"

His hand pauses momentarily, and then restarts when he answers me. "Maybe I'm just trying to make it extra-good for you, Carlisle."

I laugh, and pull him down so I can kiss him. "You don't have to bottom at all if you really don't want to. It feels good though, and I'd hate for you to miss out on the experience. I'd be gentle."

"I know you would. It's just..." He trails off and I meet his eyes, immediately understanding what he's not saying.

"Is it a bit too gay for you?" I scrunch my nose, resisting the urge to shove him off me.

"I didn't say that."

"That's what you meant, though, right?"

"No! For fuck's sake, I'm lying here naked in bed with you; I fucking spent the last eight weeks telling you how much I miss you. I'm fairly sure all of that makes me gay; the way I feel about you makes me gay, not what we do."

I close my eyes, regretting my reaction to his words.

"Sorry." I pull him closer to me, and roll us over so I'm on top of him. "I'm sorry." I kiss a path up his neck, along his jaw and to his mouth. "I shouldn't have said that, it wasn't fair to you."

"No, it wasn't. I'm really trying here, Carlisle. I don't know what more I can do."

"There's nothing more you need to do. I just need to believe that you want this. Sometimes it's all so strange to me that this happened, I need to get my head around the fact that it's not an elaborate joke."

His eyes don't meet mine, and I groan at how badly I've fucked this up. "It's my problem, not yours. I'm sorry. I do trust you, I swear."

He nods, and I reach my hand down to take hold of his softening cock. "Is this okay? We don't have to."

Finally, he lifts his head to meet my eyes. I can see how deeply my words have hurt him, and I feel terrible.

"This won't work if you don't believe my intentions, Carlisle."

"I do believe you. I want this; I want us." I'm almost desperate to plead my case.

His eyes search mine for a minute before he rolls us back over. His hips start to move slowly against mine, and I thank God that I haven't completely ruined this.

"It's not because I'm worried that it'll make me irrevocably gay or something." His voice is quiet, his face buried in my neck while his hips roll gently. "I'm just nervous. I don't want it to hurt, and I can't see how it wouldn't. I don't want to ruin it for you."

I wrap my arms around his back. "You could never ruin it. We can work up to things, I'm not saying one day I'm going to throw you down and just go for it, whether you're ready or not. It's not the most comfortable thing in the world at first but, honestly, it's worth sticking it out past the discomfort."

He nods into my neck, and I lace my fingers through his hair.

"If you really don't want to try, we don't have to. Some people know it's not for them, and that's okay. I just don't want you to avoid it because you're worried. You see how much I like it; I promise I'd make it good for you, too."

He picks up the lube, and gently gets me ready. I don't comment further, choosing instead to employ my mouth slightly more creatively, teasing at any piece of his body I can reach.

Once we are both completely prepared he lines us up. I pull his face to mine, our lips meeting as my thumb strokes his cheek.

"I want you." Edward whispers. A grin forms on his lips, and he continues. "I'm gay, and I want you."

I breathe out a laugh, happy that he's able to joke a little about what happened.

"Well, take me then." The end of my challenge is cut off with a squeak, as Edward does exactly what I asked.

He starts moving slowly, but insistently, and there's not much I can do but lie back and enjoy it. He leans all his weight onto one arm, so he can reach his other hand down to touch me. He's definitely got the hang of this quickly, but I can't manage to resist slowly rolling us over, so that I can be on top. I'm not sure how he'll react to not being in control, but I need to show him that I want this from him.

I sit up over him, and he groans, throwing his head back as I start to move. Once he gets used to the different sensations, he brings his focus back to me, and realises that it's much easier to touch me when we're like this.

"Are you okay if I move a little faster?" I ask.

"Fuck, yes."

Leaning down, I brace my hands on his shoulders so that I can balance as I move. I want to show him that it is possible to go hard and fast, and it'll still feel good for both of us. I gain speed gradually, enjoying the sight of Edward thrashing underneath me. His hand is loosely wrapped around my cock, but he's beyond moving it, too lost in his own sensations, and I grin.

I move us faster and faster, until my legs are burning from the effort. Edward is groaning, looking almost incapable of anything except thrashing, when he suddenly sits up. My cock suddenly gets a whole bunch of friction, and I realise exactly how close I am.

I grit out a warning to him, and he mutters a "Thank God," before his body tenses for a few seconds, and then relaxes into a state of bliss. His fingers are clutching at my back, and his teeth sink into my shoulder, but I can't bring myself to stop him. If anything, it helps push me over the edge, and I groan out my orgasm.

"Fuck, Carlisle." Edward falls back onto the bed, pulling me with him. I cringe at the feel of my come between us, but decide I can deal with it for a minute of recuperation.

He rubs his hands slowly up and down my back. "Did that all feel good? Even though it was... rough?"

"It wasn't that rough," I laugh. "But yeah, it all felt amazing. Couldn't you tell?"

A slight flush appears on his cheeks, and he shrugs, unsure of himself.

I kiss his cheek, unable to resist him when he's vulnerable. The movement makes me grimace, though, and I sit up, unable to deal with feeling gross any longer. "Come on, let's shower."

Edward follows me into the bathroom, and I switch the shower on for us, pulling him in after me, and immediately grabbing his shower gel.

"So, if I wanted to try that, you'd be okay with going slow?" he asks, as I concentrate on squeezing the bottle in my hands.

I rub some of the gel onto his chest, washing the sticky mess off him, before starting on the rest of his body. "I'm not a monster, Edward. Yes, I would go slow."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, we can build up to it. Just... warn me before you do anything. And I'm not saying I'll be ready for anything big –" I snort at his phrasing, and he slaps my chest gently. "I didn't mean it like that... well... maybe I did."

"We'll go at whatever pace you want, Edward."

He smiles at my reassurance, leaning forward to kiss me.

We stay in the shower for a while, Edward washing me while I wash him. He steps fully under the stream of water to rinse off, and turns to me to do the same. I hesitate, and he grins. "Are you not finished yet?"

"Not quite. Sorry." I have to do everything in a specific order, otherwise there's no point in bothering to wash at all. I could do without Edward seeing me, though – there's nothing less sexy than someone washing himself over and over again because something goes wrong each time.

He runs his hand over the mark he's left on my shoulder before placing a kiss over it.

"It's fine. I'll step out and get us some drinks ready. Take your time."

When the door of the bathroom shuts behind him, I rest my head against the wall of the shower. I feel like all my various compulsions out there in the open. They get worse when I'm stressed out, and today is clearly no exception. Not only am I proving what a strange person I am, I managed to fuck things up with Edward, too. I'm lucky he took my apology so well.

I start to wash myself slowly and carefully, starting with my hair and working my way down. I feel a little more relaxed as I perform a familiar routine, and by the time I'm out of the shower, my mood has lifted completely.

"What did you order for lunch, then?" I ask Edward as I wrap my arms around him from behind. I place a kiss on the back of his neck, and he spins around to face me.

"You'll see," he smiles. "You seem more relaxed now."

The reason for that is simple. "I'm happy."

"Good, because you're all mine for the next two days. I hope you're prepared."

"I can't fucking wait."


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts! I'm posting this through the fail, so hopefully it'll go live sometime soon!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. I've been messing around with this chapter all morning, though, so if anything reads strangely - it's on me.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LHR 15:00, Sunday 22__nd__ August. Meet at arrivals. Name "McCarty." Drop off at 45 Park Lane._

.

Edward and I only leave the hotel once between the time we arrive on the Friday afternoon, and the time we go to pick Emmett up two days later. It's a lovely weekend, and we decide that we should probably make something of the sun, even if we don't manage it for long. At least now we can actually _tell_ people that we did something over the last two days, rather than just blushing and mumbling something about the great room service.

I don't regret our decision, though, and by the time we are leaving to go and collect Emmett, we feel like we have been thoroughly reacquainted. It's not like we spent the whole time having sex – neither of us quite have the stamina we would have had a few years ago. Even the times in between, where we sat and talked, or even curled up together to sleep, were amazing.

Edward comes with me to the airport, even though he has to sit in the back of the car again. He chooses to wear his suit too, though he's not working. "It's so you don't feel as out of place at the airport. If you don't wear your hat, we just look like colleagues."

I deliberately time it so that we are at the airport earlier than necessary, so that we have time to sit and drink our coffees. We can buy one when we finish for Emmett on the way back to the hotel. Edward cringes at the size of the queue in the ridiculously small coffee outlet.

"It is the middle of the summer break," I remind him. "I did warn you that the airport would be full of people. People who can't afford executive lounges have to make do with a coffee chain."

"I know, I just didn't think it would be quite this bad."

"Well, welcome to the real world," I grin.

We order our drinks – including one for Emmett, as Edward refuses to queue again – and spot a clear table where we can sit down; now it's my turn to cringe. The tabletop might be clear, but I can see that it's not clean at all. Edward notices my look, and doesn't even bother sitting down.

"Come on, let's just go and find a seat near the arrivals gate. They might be slightly less offensive to you."

I laugh, but I'm secretly glad he easily accepted my reluctance to sit there. I want to thank him properly for being so in-tune to my needs, but I'm working. I'm still not convinced that Tanya isn't lurking around a corner, so I just about resist.

Once we've taken our seats, though, I rest my hand between us so that I can trail my finger along the side of his thigh.

"Don't start me off again," he warns. "I was pretty sure you'd killed me after this morning, but judging by the way I feel right now, I'm still very much alive."

I consider trying to get him as turned-on as I can manage with one finger, in a public place, but decide against it. It's not totally fair to Edward, and I'm not sure getting either of us that wound up when we won't be able to do anything about it is a good plan. Edward and Emmett will have to work as soon as we get back to the hotel, and I'm going to go back to my flat for the night. Sadly, my first job in the morning is closer to where I live than central London and, much as I enjoy Edward's company, it's not worth fighting Monday morning traffic.

I pull my hand back and take a sip of my drink, trying to resist the urge to put my arm around him instead.

"Are you sure you can't stay tonight?" he whines.

"It's not very practical. I'd have to leave at like, five in the morning."

"Well, I could get up with you. There's a gym at the hotel; I could use that before I start work."

"Why on earth would you get up early and then go to a gym? Are you crazy?"

He shrugs. "I probably wouldn't get to sleep after you went, so I might as well do something with my time. I need to keep in shape, or you might not want to date me anymore," he grins.

"I think we've done a weeks' worth of work-outs in the last two days. As long as we carry on that rate, I'm sure we'll both stay more than fit enough this week."

"We won't be able to keep it up if you don't stay at the hotel with me," he grumbles. He hates not getting his own way, which is terrible, because it makes me more likely to tell him no. I know that's a jerk move, but his pouty face is too adorable not to bring out every now and then.

"It's not feasible tonight, sorry. I'll stay with you the rest of the week, or you can stay at my place when you're not working."

He hasn't quite lost his pout, but he nods in agreement before standing up. "Shouldn't we go and wait for Emmett?"

I glance up at the arrivals board, and sure enough, the Chicago flight has landed. Time has flown.

"Yeah, we better had. You can experience the delights of the arrivals gate."

We're not far away, so I quickly explain to Edward how I while the time away when I'm waiting for a customer. "I just like eavesdropping, or even just trying to guess who they're waiting for. People are fascinating."

"I never thought you'd enjoy somewhere like an airport, don't you hate being jostled, and having people so close to you?"

"Well, that's why I play the game; otherwise I'm just thinking about how gross most people are. At least this gives me something else to focus on."

He looks around the crowd, and finally nods to a couple who look to be in their thirties. "So what are they waiting for?"

"I'd guess they're waiting for parents. They're too young to have kids travelling on their own, they're too... together... to be waiting for partners."

"Unless they're swingers," Edward points out.

"Now, that's true. I hadn't thought of that particular scenario."

"I bring a whole new level to this game, huh?"

"A whole new level of sexual depravity, yeah," I laugh. "Okay, try those older people over there."

"Swingers."

"Stop it."

"Okay."

There's a pause, and he grins at me impishly as we stand in silence.

I sigh. "Fine, carry on."

"Maybe they're waiting for someone they met on a swingers' cruise."

"Aren't all cruises swingers' cruises?"

"Probably. I've never been on one."

"You're not a swinger then?"

He looks at me for a second, his expression suddenly serious. "What would you say if I was?"

I can't quite help the horror that flashes across my face. The thought of all those people swapping bodily fluids with other people makes me want to throw up.

Edward laughs, his serious mask disappearing in an instant. "I was joking, don't worry."

I sip my coffee, trying to stop myself from reacting unprofessionally for winding me up like that. I'll get my own back later, somehow.

"If they're not swingers," he continues. "Then who are they waiting for?"

"Kids?"

"They look too excited to be waiting for their kids."

"What?"

"Why would they want their kids to come back? Think of all the sex they've been having while the house was empty."

I grimace. "Do I have to?"

"You know, you weren't this repulsed by sex this morning," he says. Loudly. We've been monitoring the level of our voices up until now, but Edward has clearly forgotten that we are surrounded by people. An older women standing in front of us turns round at his words, looking furious. He shrugs at her, as if she has no reason to be shocked. "What? He wasn't."

She shakes her head and turns back around, muttering something about Americans having no sense of decorum. Edward grins widely at me, and I roll my eyes at him. I can't help but be amused though, and it's good to see him be open about our relationship – even if that was a little _too _open.

Emmett finally walks through the gate and we leave immediately, not wanting to inadvertently offend anyone else. They both sit in the back of the car on the way to the hotel, talking about what they need to get done that day. Emmett asks if we've had a good few days, and laughs wickedly at Edward's response – a blush, and no words.

I drop them off, declining Edward's offer to come in for a few minutes – I know I'd never leave if I did. Emmett follows the porter in, leaving Edward and me alone at the car.

"We can't even kiss goodbye if you don't come in," he grumbles.

I sigh; he's right. I hate having to sneak around. I can't go in though; I won't be responsible for pulling him away from his work. "It'll make tomorrow night even sweeter," I argue, lamely.

He rolls his eyes, but doesn't protest further. Instead, he pulls out a key-card from his pocket. "This is for tomorrow night. I might not be back before you arrive, so make yourself at home. If you need to eat, order room service."

"What time do you think you'll finish?"

"I'm not sure, hopefully not too late. Maybe around eight o'clock?"

"Okay, my last job is an airport run at six. Do you want to eat together when you get back?"

"We'll probably grab something there," he says apologetically.

I nod. "Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow night then."

He turns to leave, and it feels so weird not being able to kiss him. We definitely can't kiss here, though. At least in the airport we're surrounded by crowds to disappear into; here we're in full view of everyone.

I sigh, getting back into the car. Tomorrow night can't come quickly enough.

~-DTD-~

"Christ, I thought you were dead," Garrett says, as his answers his door to me.

"What?"

"I haven't heard from you in days."

"You knew I was spending time with Edward."

"Were your fingers rendered incapable of texting for the entire time?" he asks. I smirk, and he shakes his head. "On second thought, I don't want to know."

I follow him into his apartment, and he grabs me a beer. "Do you want a glass, or do you want to drink straight from the bottle?"

I choose a glass – there's no telling what disgustingness resides around the rim of a bottle.

We sit in his lounge, and he fills me in on his weekend. He saw Kate again, which is completely unlike him. "Are you becoming monogamous?" I tease.

"Fuck, no. She was just an animal in bed. I couldn't resist seeing her again," he grins. "She did this thing with her breasts..."

"Oh, God, shut up. Shut up. I don't want to know."

He laughs, but doesn't continue his tale, thankfully.

I change the subject. "How was yesterday with Jared and Seth?"

"Oh, it was awesome. They love me," he laughs. "I took them to the park in the morning, made them run round for an hour or so playing football and rugby with me. Then I took them to a football game in the afternoon. We had fast-food for tea, and collapsed in front of a film here in the evening. They were both asleep on the couch by the time Esme got here."

"Did you tell her you fed them crappy food?"

"No. She'd murder me."

"I'll make sure I don't mention it. Mind you, I'm sure Seth will tell her anyway."

"Urgh, I know; he's such a squealer," Garrett laughs. "I'll have to work on that."

"Good old Uncle Garrett, teaching the kids to lie to their mum."

"They learn all the important stuff from me."

I laugh, taking a swig of my beer. For all I wind him up, Garrett really is good with the kids. I owe him a lot for helping us look after the boys over the years – even if he does teach them things that we'd rather they didn't know.

"How was your weekend, then?" he asks. "Sex-filled?"

"Pretty much," I grin.

"Have we got plans for going out yet?"

"Yeah, does Saturday night work for you?"

"I think so. Don't you have the boys?"

"They go back that evening." They're staying at my place on Friday night, though. I haven't got round to mentioning that to Edward yet. "Are you going to bring Kate?"

"Fuck no; there might be other girls there. I'm not destroying my chances before I even begin. It's bad enough that Tanya will be there."

"Why?"

"Because people will see me with a girl and assume I'm with her; especially if you and Edward are all cosy."

"Emmett is going, too. Maybe people will think he's with Tanya."

"No, he wears his wedding ring, and Tanya doesn't have one on. Girls notice that shit."

"You put so much thought into this, Gar."

"You've got to think like a girl. You get used to it."

I shake my head, sipping my drink and turning my attention to the football on TV. Football is always on his fucking TV. This isn't even English teams playing; I don't know how he can care so much about something that has no impact on his life.

Garrett and I make tentative plans to meet up at some point during the week, if only for lunch. I'm not sure how feasible that is, but we always try to see each other a couple of times a week – and I've lost all my evenings to Edward.

After I finish my beer, I head off. I need to do some food shopping, and clean my apartment after it's been left alone for a few days. I have an early start in the morning, and no doubt I will hear from Edward at some point, so I need to get everything done quickly.

~-DTD-~

Friday morning arrives, and I stretch out like a cat in Edward's arms. While we have spent every night together since Monday, we've probably been asleep for eighty percent of the time. He's completely exhausted from work, and I don't want to exhaust him further by keeping him awake with nocturnal activities.

It doesn't stop us in the mornings, though.

However, Edward is off work today and while we have the kids – and therefore a busy day – we won't be picking them up until ten o'clock. I try to turn over slowly so that I don't wake him up. He's dead to the world, and I manage to get hold of my phone to check the time. It's nearly time to get up, and I'm not sure whether to get ready alone, or wake Edward so we can shower together.

I don't need to make a decision right away, though; nothing's going to happen until after I've brushed my teeth.

As I move to get out of the bed, however, Edward's arms tighten around me. His lips press at the back of my neck, and I can feel his chest rumble against me as he speaks. "Going somewhere?"

I laugh, but don't turn back over. "I'm just going to brush my teeth; I'll be back in a second. We need to get up soon, though."

"How soon?" His hand is tracing down my chest, the destination obvious.

"Too soon," I groan, removing myself from his grasp and sitting up at the edge of the bed.

"Can we shower together?" he asks, and I nod. Multi-tasking could work. "Excellent, I'll start the shower, you brush your teeth, and I'll meet you under the water. I'll be the one with a palmful of shower gel and an erection."

He jumps out of bed, suddenly very awake. By the time I've texted Esme to double-check timings for today, he's finished brushing his teeth and is in the shower. I'm fairly sure he didn't brush for the full two minutes that you're meant to, but I let that go.

Once I'm ready, I step into the shower, and find Edward waiting for me exactly as promised. "We don't have too much time," I warn as I run my hands up his arms and over his shoulders. Edward grins, his hands dropping down to squeeze my ass as he leans in for a kiss.

"I can make this quick," he whispers against my lips. "I'm a fast learner."

He really is. Every one of my reactions seems to be catalogued in his head, and he knows exactly what to do when he wants to tease, and what to do when he wants me to come hard and fast.

Before I know it, I'm pushed up against the wall of the shower, Edward's body pressed against mine. His hands move up my body to my hold my face gently as he kisses me passionately. I love feeling him all over me, and he knows it. His lips start teasing at my neck and jaw, his hands running over my chest before dropping down to my cock. My hands go to his hips, skimming over his lower back, down to his ass and then back up again. I can feel his muscles playing under my hands, and I moan at the sensations.

"I like getting you all wet," he grins, and then his face falls slightly. "That sounds like it should have a double meaning. It doesn't; I just like you in the shower."

I laugh. "Yeah, it probably sounds better when you say it to a girl."

"I definitely prefer saying it to you."

"That's the right answer." My words are lost in a moan as Edward starts moving his hand firmly. I reach out for the shower gel – it's on the shelf, right where it should be – and push him away a little so that I can pour some out and return the favour.

We're soapy and slippery, moaning and groaning, and it's perfect.

"Is this heaven for you?" Edward chuckles, his hand speeding up. "Getting dirty and getting clean at the same time?"

I don't know how he can even talk; I'm incapable of forming words right now, let alone full sentences. His hand is working furiously, and I have to let him go for a minute, while I concentrate on my own orgasm. A fleeting thought crosses my mind that I really should be embarrassed that Edward is doing better at this than I am but, as a wave of pleasure sweeps over me, I realise that I don't care.

Once I recover slightly, I spin us around so that Edward can lean against the wall. I place him under the spray of the water to rid him of the soap, and kiss him thoroughly before sinking to my knees.

"I didn't know we had time for that," he whines. "I would have done it for you, too."

I laugh, he's so eager. "You can do it for me later, it's fine."

All conversation ends when my hand wraps around the base of his cock and I take him into my mouth. He hums, and immediately grabs my hair with his fingers. I need to get it cut; he can tug it too hard now. That and it's looking ridiculously untidy.

I try to stop thinking about haircuts and concentrate on what I'm doing. Edward is close – I can tell by his frantic movements – and I work hard to get him there quickly. I use my free hand to tease gently at the skin behind his balls. We've been trying little things like this, when he's close, so that he gets used to the sensation. So far, he has enjoyed it, and today is no exception; his moans become louder, and he shudders under my hands. His hands tighten in my hair when he comes, and I wince. I definitely need a haircut. Maybe I'll take the boys with me today.

He pulls me up into his arms, and I lean against him as he rests against the wall.

"Give me two seconds to recover, and I'll rinse off and leave you to your routine." His head is thrown back, and his voice is quiet, but I nod into his shoulder.

Finally, he gets his strength back, kissing me before doing as he promised. He knows I feel awkward about my need for routine, and he's accepted my ridiculousness without trying to make me feel any more uncomfortable.

Before long, we are both in the car and on our way to Esme's apartment. I'm trying to time it so that Esme won't have long to interrogate Edward, but we show up exactly at the time we arranged.

"Do you want to come up with me, or stay in the car?" I ask him.

"Like a pet?"

"No, like someone who doesn't want to have to deal with my sister."

"It's fine, I'll come up with you. I need to meet her sometime, and at least she's on a time limit today."

The boys rush to open the door for us, and last about ten seconds before asking Edward if he's brought his phone with him.

"Don't be so rude," Esme chastises. "Go and make sure you've packed everything you need; don't forget you're at Uncle Carlisle's until tomorrow evening. And don't take anything that will make a mess!"

It was a serious order, and I smile at her in gratitude. The kids know how I get, and they're usually well behaved, but after a day or so, they do forget about my neurosis. I could do without having a full-blown freak out in front of Edward.

"So, Edward, how long are you here for?" Esme asks as we follow her into the kitchen.

"I fly back on Tuesday morning. I've been here since last Friday, though, so we've got a decent amount of time together."

"What is it you do?"

"I work for a company who provide I.T. services for other big companies."

Esme looks as confused as I am, and Edward laughs.

"We do simple stuff like building websites, helping to write computer programs, but we also provide security for them. We have a department who deals with online transactions and another one that makes sure that company's private information remains secure from other places. That's pretty simplified, but it's what we do."

"So what do you do?"

"I oversee the security department."

"So you're the boss?"

"Not the overall boss, no, but I'm fairly high up," he smiles.

"Wow. Does your dad own the company or something?"

"Jesus," I hiss at Esme. She could at least pretend to be polite. Fortunately, Edward laughs.

"No, he doesn't. He does work for the company, but for the legal team."

"So he got you started there then?"

"When I was sixteen, yeah. I did some weekend work there with the I.T. division, and loved it. I went to MIT for my Computer Science degree, and worked my way up through the company after I graduated."

"So you're at the top already? On your own merit?" Esme is completely sceptical.

"I'm not really at the top. I'm the head of one division," Edward argues gently. "I had a few lucky breaks, too. But I came up with a system that broke the mould, and it took off completely. It made the company a pile of money." He says all this with his usual air of arrogance. I guess it's more deserved than I ever thought.

"Oh, wow, congratulations. I hope you're content to hang out with my dumb little brother," Esme laughs. "I need to go, anyway."

The boys are enthralled by the TV, and hardly move their heads as Esme kisses them goodbye. We turn the TV off and follow her out as she reels off a list of instructions. I'm not sure if they're for the kids or me, but it doesn't matter; none of us are really listening.

"Have a good time with Uncle Carlisle and Edward," Esme says as we pack the boys into the car. "Be good and I'll see you tomorrow night."

The kids chorus goodbye to her, and she walks down the road to work.

"What are we doing today, Uncle Carlisle?"

"We thought we might go down to Hyde Park and hire a boat. We've got a football with us, too. We thought maybe we'd catch a film later this afternoon and eat out. Does that sound good?"

The boys agree that it does, and I drive us back to park at Edward's hotel.

As soon as we hit the park, the boys take off running, with Edward alongside them. I'm left staring at Edward's ass as he runs. For someone who claimed to hate football, he's playing well with the boys. Jared finds a small amount of space for them to play properly – difficult here in the height of summer – and they set up a makeshift goal.

It seems to be Edward vs. Jared and Seth, and they are all having a great time. Edward is cheating, of course, picking the boys up to stop them getting the ball and various things like that; all the good tricks that uncles know. I join in a little. Sports aren't really my forte, and getting sweaty for reasons other than sex doesn't appeal to me at all, but I help out a little. Everyone is better than me, though.

We decide to change the teams a little, and Jared and I play against Edward and Seth. Jared is brilliant, and almost completely makes up for my ineptitude.

Jared passes the ball to me, and I see Edward bearing down on me. I just about manage to get it back in Jared's direction as Edward flies into me. We tumble to the ground, and I blink up at him as he lies on top of me.

"This isn't American football, you know. That's a bookable offense."

"Will I have to take an early bath?"

"How do you even know that phrase?"

"I heard Garrett saying it during the World Cup. It's not something I'd heard before, so I looked it up. I never thought it'd come in handy. Did I use it right?"

"Yeah, you did."

We conduct this entire conversation lying on the ground, and we're interrupted by Seth. "Edward," he whines. "You're supposed to be on my team, not Uncle Carlisle's. Get off him."

I turn my head so that he can't see me laughing as Edward lifts himself off me.

"How about we go and get a boat," I offer when I've schooled my expression. "I'm no good at football."

Seth tilts his head at me for a second, before agreeing. "You are rubbish. Let's go pedalling."

He takes off, grabbing Edward's hand as he goes. I grab Jared, who was happily playing football on his own, and we all walk towards the lake. Edward leaves Seth with us as we get close, and heads off to speak to the owner of the boats. I know exactly what he's doing, and it makes me smile.

Sure enough, the owner disappears, and then re-emerges with a clean pedalo. I smile, and Jared laughs, having realised what's going on.

"What's funny?" Seth grumbles, not enjoying being left out of the joke.

"Edward's bought Uncle Carlisle a clean boat. Did he get the man to store it here for him?"

"He hasn't bought it." I hope. "He just gets them to bring out a clean one for us."

"How does he do that?" Jared asks.

"By giving the man lots of money, I'd assume."

"Does Edward have lots of money?" That was Seth. He's recently realised that money equals the ability to buy toys. It's a revelation he's still enjoying.

"I think so. I'd hope so, if he's wasting it on hiring me clean boats."

"Do you think he'd buy me a phone like his?" Jared is desperate to have his own phone, but Esme won't allow it yet.

"No. And don't ask him."

"Maybe he'll buy you a house, Uncle C." Seth is obsessed with me moving house. He wants me to live closer to them than I do.

"We're not asking Edward to buy us anything."

"Except a boat," Jared interjects.

I shake my head, and draw in a deep breath as we walk down to meet Edward at the dock. I'm not sure I'm going to cope with dealing with the kids for the entire two days. At least they'll be quiet in the cinema. I hope.

Apparently paying for your own boat means you skip the queues, too. We ignore the looks of horror from the other patrons as we climb into the pedalo. The boys sit in the front – it means that they have to pedal and steer, and they are incredibly excited. I'm not sure how long they'll last, but it's worth it to keep them happy.

Jared is fairly well behaved, actually, and Seth follows his lead. We aren't deliberately crashed into anything, and they don't try to go too fast. I snap a few pictures while we're out there, wanting something to accompany my memories.

Edward takes my hand after I put my camera away. "How does it feel to have someone else driving you around?" he grins.

"It's pretty good. I might book Jared in to drive me around for the entire year when he's seventeen."

"I'll be busy partying and kissing girls when I'm seventeen, Uncle C," Jared calls from the front of the boat.

"Who told you that?"

"Uncle Garrett."

Of course it was.

"You might be kissing boys," Edward points out.

"Oh yeah. That's cool. I wouldn't want to kiss Embry, though. He smells like cheese and onion crisps."

Embry is his best friend, and Jared is completely accurate in his description.

"You don't have to kiss anyone you don't want to. Don't kiss anyone who doesn't want to kiss you, either," I warn.

"I don't want to kiss anyone, ever," Seth shouts.

"Good, keep it that way." I shake my head and glance over at Edward, who is grinning at the conversation. "Wait until you're having this conversation with Bella. It won't be as funny then."

His face immediately falls and I laugh.

"Who's Bella?"

I can see Edward fighting his immediate reflex after what I've just said, which is to tell Seth to mind his own business. "She's my niece."

"How old is she?" Jared asks.

"She's seven. Eight next month." Jared turns away, uninterested by anyone younger than him, apart from his brother. Seth, however, is still curious.

"I'm seven, too." Edward looks to me for confirmation – last he heard, Seth was six. I nod, his birthday is in July.

"Are you going into second grade when you go back to school then?"

Seth frowns at him, and Edward looks baffled by his response. Clearly he's forgotten that we don't do everything exactly the same ways in both countries.

"We don't have grades," I explain. "He's going into year three, right Seth?"

Seth nods, and grins at Edward, who is clearly floundering for how to react to Seth's enthusiasm. Eventually, he comes up with "Awesome!"

Seth immediately repeats Edward's response. In Edward's accent.

Edward laughs and fist bumps him, and I roll my eyes. I'm secretly glad they're all getting on well, although I'm fairly sure the word "awesome" is going to get old fast.

We pull the boat back to the dock, and the kids spend the entire walk back to the car – and the journey home – making Edward say words and parroting them back. They hear these accents every day on TV, but somehow having it live in front of them makes it so much more exciting.

After taking a quick shower, I make everyone a light lunch when we get back to the house. I've put the kids in front of a DVD to give Edward a break, and he chooses to spend some time in the kitchen with me. He gulps down a bottle of water out of my fridge before blowing out a deep breath.

"They can really talk, huh?"

"I warned you," I laugh. "I take it Bella isn't like this?"

"Not at all. Unless it's about a book, I guess. Even then she says whatever she needs to say and then stops."

"Yeah, Jared and Seth never stop."

"I've noticed."

"You know," I say, walking towards him, sandwich-making momentarily forgotten. "Your accent is pretty hot. I've never really paid attention to it before."

"I'd say the same thing about you," he smiles, pulling me into his arms. My hands immediately go to his shoulders, my fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck as he leans in to kiss me. His hands trail down my back, squeezing my ass, and I groan into our kiss. I'm rapidly forgetting our location, let alone the fact that my two nephews are less than twenty feet away. However, Edward's hand moves around my body before dipping under my t-shirt, and I use the last of my common sense to pull back.

"Not now," I mutter, resting my head on his shoulder as I catch my breath.

"Fuck," he laughs. "I almost completely forgot we weren't alone."

"Me too."

"How are we meant to last tonight?"

"They're heavy sleepers, and we can be quiet."

Edward looks surprised. "You're not saying no to tonight?"

"Why the hell would I say no?"

"Because of the kids."

"Well, parents must have sex when their kids are asleep. I don't see why we can't."

Edward smiles at me; presumably, he thought sex was off the table tonight. He only has four nights left in the country until God knows when; sex is never going to be off the table.

"Awesome!"

I laugh at his enthusiasm, and get back to making everyone's food while he goes to watch the DVD with the boys. I'm guessing they're watching Harry Potter again; they usually are. They're not going to be happy when I drag them away to eat, but there's no chance I'm letting them eat in there. I try to relax around the kids as much as possible, but I'm not going to provide opportunities for them to get messy if I can help it.

We find a showing of Toy Story 3 that is well-timed for us, and drive to the cinema after we eat. Edward has already been to see the film with Bella, so Seth questions him relentlessly about what she thought of it, and a million and one other things about her. I think Seth might have a crush that he doesn't understand on a girl he's never met before. Esme is going to kick my ass.

"Does Bella talk like you, Edward?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Does she like Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, she loves it. She's reading the books at the moment."

"Uncle Carlisle, I want to read the Harry Potter books."

"Speak to your mum about that," I tell him.

"Edward, does Bella like football?"

"Not really. She likes reading."

"Me too, I love reading."

I snort. He doesn't mind reading when he's in the right mood, but I definitely wouldn't say he loved it.

"Do you have a picture of her, Edward?"

Edward grabs his phone out of his pocket, flips through it a little, before holding it up so that Seth can see.

"She's pretty, Edward."

"Thanks, Seth. I'll let her know you think so."

"Are you going to show her a picture of us? I bet she'd like to see."

Edward looks to me for help, and I shrug. It's not me who'll dictate that.

"Uh, yeah, maybe next time I see her."

"When we get to the cinema we can get someone to take a picture of us all on your phone. Your phone takes awesome pictures."

He says the word 'awesome' in what I can only assume was meant to be Edward's accent, but he's clearly forgotten how to do it. Jared bursts out laughing, finally distracted from his Nintendo DS, and they spend the rest of the journey begging Edward to teach them even more 'accent words.'

Toy Story 3 is good fun. Edward and I sit either side of the boys, so we can't get in any sneaky hand holding, but the film is good enough to take our mind off that. We see it in 3D, and the boys seem to enjoy it too, once they stop being annoyed by the glasses they have to wear.

They love it so much, in fact, that we spend the entirety of our meal at Nando's – the kids' favourite restaurant – listening to them quote back every line they can remember. While it's sweet to see them so enthusiastic, I'm not quite so keen on them talking through mouthfuls of food. I constantly remind them to finish what they're eating before talking, and apologise to Edward for their manners.

"It's okay. I think you're probably more stressed out by it than I am," he laughs.

That's probably true.

We bundle the boys back into the car once we finish our meals. Seth is completely exhausted and falling asleep in his seat, while Jared amuses himself with his games console again. It's quite nice to have a bit of peace.

Seth wakes up as I carry him into the flat, so I quickly get him to brush his teeth and put his pajamas on. He refuses to go to bed, and it's still a little early, so I let him sit out with us for a while. Edward and Jared are watching a science programme on TV, and Seth falls asleep on me within ten minutes of sitting down.

I carry him to bed, giving Jared a warning that he'll be going soon, too. He grumbles a little, but I don't relent. He and Seth are sharing a bed tonight, and Seth will be up early. I can't deal with over-tired Jared; he drives me crazy.

I let Jared finish his programme, and then allow him to watch one more. He's sitting sideways on one of my chairs, and I bite my lip to stop myself from telling him to sit properly. Edward throws his arm over my shoulder as we watch whatever the hell this show is – something to do with monsters – and he offers to get me a drink. I groan in response and he looks at me, confused.

"I'd kill for a beer, but I don't drink if the kids are here."

"Well, how about I don't drink; then you can."

"You can't drive here," I point out.

"So?"

"What if one of them needs to go to hospital?"

"I'm fairly sure you have ambulances here."

"Yes but not all injuries are worth calling an ambulance for."

"How much damage do you think they're going to do to themselves in bed?" he asks, amused.

"I don't know. I just think it's best I don't drink. Well, maybe one. You can drink if you want."

Jared jumps in. "Just have a beer and shut up, Uncle C. I can't hear the TV."

I roll my eyes, and throw a cushion at him. "Don't be so rude. And pick that cushion up."

Edward grabs us a beer each, and we sit quietly for the rest of the show. His arm is resting over my shoulder again, drawing circles on my upper arm with his fingers. I try to ignore the need to drag him to my bedroom immediately, and sit clutching my beer bottle instead.

Finally, Jared's show ends, and I send him to get ready for bed. He goes without complaint, surprisingly, and once he's ready, I flick a lamp on in there for him.

"You can read, but no playing on your DS," I warn him. "In fact, hand that over now."

I've clearly foiled his plan, and he grumbles at me as he reaches under the bed and hands it over.

I raise an eyebrow at him, but say nothing more – he did hand it over without too much fuss. I kiss his forehead and let him settle himself down. He's a bit old for much attention when he goes to bed now; he just likes to have someone there to say goodnight to him and then leave.

"Is it our bedtime yet?" Edward asks with a grin as I walk back into the room.

"Not quite yet, Jared will be up reading for a while. We could watch a film while we wait?"

Edward nods, and I pick out a comedy that Garrett bought for me to watch, something that doesn't need concentrating on and it won't scare the boys if they wake up and hear it. I grab us some food to snack on – we ate early tonight – and get Edward another beer while I'm at it. Jared will be awake and reading for a while yet, the monkey, so we might as well make ourselves comfy in the lounge.

Apparently, Edward's idea of comfy and mine are slightly different. Less than five minutes into the film, he sits up on the couch slightly, and shuffles even closer to me. One of his arms is leaning on the back of the couch, and he wraps his other one around my front, his forearm brushing against my semi-hard cock. He nuzzles into my shoulder, and it makes me grin; he's being exceptionally cute tonight.

I lean us back, so we're resting against the back of the couch properly. "We can't do too much here. We need to keep an ear out for the boys; they don't need to walk in on you grinding against me. No getting naked, either."

"Who says I'm the one who's going to be grinding?" Edward grins. I look pointedly down at his crotch, his trousers doing nothing to disguise his erection, and he follows my gaze and shrugs. "Fair point."

I run my hand over his neck and the top of his chest, our heads so close that they are almost touching. I can feel his pulse racing as I pass, and it's always an ego boost to know that I am doing this to him. He leans in slightly to kiss me, and I see his tongue dart out slightly for a second. I lift my hand back up, and I can't help but bite my lip as I run my thumb over his lips.

"Kiss me, for fuck's sake," he groans.

I breathe out a laugh before doing exactly as he demands. His hand immediately lifts up to my shoulder, and pushes me down onto my back. He shoves my t-shirt up as he does, and blinks innocently back at me as I raise my eyebrow at him.

"I'm not taking it off," he argues. "No one's getting naked."

I grin at him, and let him continue to place kisses on every inch of skin he can find. He works his way up from my waistband to the line of my t-shirt, which has landed somewhere just below my nipples. He skips over the fabric, and lands some kisses on my neck before meeting my lips again. His hands grab mine, and push them over my head and I roll my eyes – he's always got to be in control of things. His hips start to roll against mine, and I wrap my legs around his, needing to get us a little closer.

Then, sadly, we are interrupted.

We hear Jared before we see him, thankfully, and manage to sit up and look halfway respectable before he comes running out to the bathroom. I grab Edward's beer and take a swig, figuring whatever germs he's got are on me already now, and close my eyes.

"That was a close call," Edward observes.

I nod, but keep quiet until Jared re-emerges. "It's bed time, Jared, not reading time. Turn the light out and go to sleep, please."

He nods and heads back to the spare room; he was probably going to sleep anyway.

I blow out a breath and turn to Edward. "We'll give it twenty minutes and then go to bed, too. By the time we're sorted, he'll be asleep."

Edward agrees, and we watch some more of the film; neither of us have a clue what's actually going on, but there are some funny lines in it. We calm down a little as we watch, some of the urgency from earlier gone. We're still close, but there are only light, teasing touches now.

Once I'm fairly confident that Jared will be asleep, I carry our dishes into the kitchen and wash them up. Edward comes in to help, drying them for me, but leaving them for me to put away. "I didn't want to ruin any systems you've got going," he explains. I squeeze his hand, and tell him he can go and get ready for bed if he wants. He grins at me, and I roll my eyes at his enthusiasm as I smile back.

I finish up quickly and check on the boys before I head to bed. Both of them are flat out, which is exactly what I was hoping.

Edward is already lying in my bed when I get into the bedroom, and I can't help but smile at him. He's so eager to get laid. Not that I'm much different right now. He's got everything we might need out and on my nightstand, and I nod towards it as I kick my jeans off.

"I don't think we're going to risk that tonight. I'm not sure I can control the amount of noise we make."

He nods, his eyes watching my body as I strip off. "I didn't think so, but I figured I'd get everything out, just in case."

"I'm sure we can use the lube," I smile. I throw my clothes into my washing basket, noting that Edward has folded his up and put them on my chair. He doesn't normally do that, and it makes me fall for him a little more.

I climb into bed, wearing only my underwear, to find Edward in exactly the same state of undress. I don't even bother pretending to lie on my side, as I crawl over him. I pull at his last item of clothing before reaching over to grab the lube. "You don't need those," I inform him.

"You've got yours on."

"You were under the covers, you might have been fully dressed, and that would have been awkward."

"Do you really think I'd be fully dressed?"

"It's a possibility. Are you going to take them off, then, or shall I just put the lube back and we can snuggle to sleep?"

He has them, and mine, off faster than I thought possible.

"Thought so," I grin. I sit back, and pour some lube into my hand before wrapping it around his cock. He moans, loudly. "Shhhh," I warn. "Or I'll have to stop."

He throws an arm over his mouth to muffle his noises, and I continue to cover his cock. I work him slowly, but firmly, before handing him the bottle. He does the same for me, and I have to bury my face in his shoulder to quieten my noises. Thank God the kids are heavy sleepers.

Once we're both covered, I start to roll my hips against his. Edward's eyes widen and I lean on one forearm before trying to take hold of both his cock and mine in my hand. It doesn't work very well, but it's enough to change the sensation further.

"Fuck," Edward hisses. "I'm not going to last long."

I'm not either, so I speed my movements up further. All the teasing we did earlier comes back with full force, and I'm so glad we're finally like this. I don't know how people with kids cope.

His teeth sink into my shoulder, and I groan, my orgasm hitting me quickly. He's not far behind at all, and when I finally feel like I can move my legs again, he's recovering, too.

"I need a shower," I murmur. Edward agrees that he needs one too; we both got pretty hot and sweaty.

"We need to go one at a time, in case the kids wake up. Do you mind if I go first? I'll make the bed while you're in the shower."

Edward agrees, and I throw him a washcloth before jumping in the shower. I try to be as quick as possible, and when I get out, Edward has stripped the bed for me, and found some new sheets. I grin at him in thanks and he shrugs.

"I thought I'd help out. I would have made the bed, but I didn't think you'd appreciate me doing it while I was still un-showered."

He's wrong this time; I would have appreciated it, but I would have remade the bed while he was in the shower. I kiss him in thanks, and quickly make the bed up while he's in the bathroom.

By the time he's done, I am lying in bed and pretty much knocked out. He slips in beside me and pulls me into his arms, and I smile, laying my hand over his, before dropping off to sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
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**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. No doubt my tinkering with this has left mistakes in - they're all on me.  
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******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
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Edward emerges from my bedroom in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. I let him sleep in this morning; he's still exhausted from work. It's not fair to make him get up simply because my nephews don't know what acceptable times of the morning are.

"Uncle Carlisle, you need to watch what you're doing or the food will burn." Seth has abandoned the television to make sure that I am actually making them breakfast, as promised. Apparently, when Edward's in the room, that supervision is necessary.

Edward grins, and musses Seth's hair as he walks past him to me. "Morning, Carlisle. I hope you're not burning breakfast because you're too busy staring at me."

Busted.

I kiss him briefly, before turning back to the bacon I'm cooking. Esme will kill me when she realises I fed them nothing healthy at all in the time they spent with me, but bacon butties are a Saturday law.

"Can you butter some bread for me, Edward?"

"What the hell are you making?"

I look at him and laugh. "You don't get bacon butties in America, either?"

He shakes his head, grabbing the butter out of the fridge.

"What do you put on bread, then?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Peanut butter and jelly."

"Eurgh." That was Seth, who I'd completely forgotten was still in the room.

"He doesn't mean jelly, he means jam," I explain. Fucking annoying language barriers when we all speak English.

"Oh right," Seth says, and then pauses. "Eurgh."

"You'll love it, buddy, I promise you. I'll make it for you one day," Edward smiles.

Seth wrinkles his nose, unconvinced. I'm fairly sure he'll try it if Edward makes it, though; Edward is his new hero.

Speaking of which...

"Hey, Edward."

"Yeah, Seth."

"Should we call you 'Uncle,' too? Like we do with Uncle Garrett?"

Edward looks to me for help, his eyes wide. I take pity on him, and grab his hand while answering Seth. "You can call him Uncle Edward if you want. You don't have to, though."

"He's cool like Uncle Garrett, maybe cooler – Uncle Garrett doesn't have a fun accent," Seth ponders.

I grin, and Edward squeezes my hand; I think he likes beating Garrett in something.

"They can both be called 'Uncle' if you want, Seth. You don't have to demote Uncle Garrett."

"What does 'demote' mean?"

"Er, you know in football when a team gets relegated to the league below?"

"When they play rubbish?"

"You mean 'badly,' but yeah." I roll my eyes at myself; correcting his language isn't going to help matters further. "Anyway, demote means the same thing."

"Oh, I don't think Uncle Garrett is rubbish."

"So he can stay 'Uncle Garrett' then."

"Can I demote you, Uncle Carlisle? You're pretty rubbish at football."

"You're stuck with me forever; sorry bud."

Edward follows this whole exchange with wide eyes. I flip some bacon out onto the bread he's buttered, and send Seth off to get Jared and clean up before breakfast.

"Okay, make sure he doesn't burn any bacon, Uncle Edward."

Edward nods, stunned, and I laugh once Seth is out of the room. "What's up?"

"You just went through all that conversation, and then he just called me Uncle Edward anyway."

"Welcome to Seth-land. He'd probably made his mind up as soon as he asked; he just gets side-tracked."

Once all the bacon is dished out, I put some more on to cook for Edward and me. He pulls me towards him by my belt buckle, and I can't help but reflect his wide smile.

"Has something made you happy this morning?"

"I'm cooler than Garrett."

"Of course you are. And hotter."

"Hotter?"

"Yeah, much hotter. He can't carry off shorts like you can."

"Awesome."

"Okay, you need to stop saying that before you go home. People are going to think you've turned into a college student again."

"I can't help being cool, Carlisle."

"Uncle Edward!" Seth shouts, as he races back into the room. "You're meant to be watching Uncle Carlisle, not taking all his attention. Don't make me demote you!"

"Ooops, sorry, Seth. Uncle Carlisle distracted me."

"Gross, I bet they kissed." Jared has shuffled into the room. He clearly didn't get enough sleep last night; he's been in a foul mood since we all got up.

"We didn't actually," I tell him. "But we could now, if you want."

"No thanks," he mutters. Today is going to be fun, I can tell.

"Do you want a drink, boys?" Edward asks, trying to take the conversation away from what we got up to.

"Lemonade," Jared demands.

My response is immediate. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's breakfast, Jared. Pick something else."

"Urgh. You're a tyrant." I try to suppress my grin at his use of that word. I wonder where he's learnt. Now probably isn't the time to ask, though. "I'll have apple juice," he concedes.

"Please," I prompt.

"Please."

"Seth?"

"Orange juice, please, Uncle Edward." Thank God, he's choosing today to be cute. I think Jared's attitude might be enough to scare anyone off.

"You're such a creeper," Jared says to his little brother under his breath.

I seriously don't have the patience for this boy when he's in a shitty mood like this. "Less of that talk, please, Jared. Seth was being polite, which is more than you've managed all morning."

Jared just shakes his head, and goes back to eating. Edward hands them their drinks, and I stare at Jared until he remembers to thank him.

I widen my eyes at Edward as he comes back into the main part of the kitchen, and he wraps his arms around me. Turning my head so the boys can't see, I whisper, "Are you sure you want to spend the day with us?"

He laughs. "Yeah. Kids are awkward occasionally; I can deal."

"Okay, well, I'm not giving you a chance to change your mind. You have to deal with Garrett later, too."

"I can cope with Garrett, I'm cooler than him."

"Uncle Carlisle, your bacon's burning."

"Oh Seth, don't worry..." I trail off as I notice he's completely right. Fuck it.

"Good looking out, Edward." I shove him in the side, and shoo him away so I can concentrate properly. He sits at the table, and chats to the boys about what bacon butties taste like. Seth gallantly offers him a bite of his, but Edward refuses, wanting Seth to have his all to himself.

Finally, I finish making our breakfast, too. The boys are done with theirs, and back in the living room watching TV. I quite enjoy the peace. Edward is quite tentative in his first bite, but he soon realises how delicious the food is, and is soon on his second sandwich.

"What's the plan for today, then?"

"Well," I grimace, "Garrett's got us tickets for a football match this afternoon."

"For all of us?"

"Yeah, and Emmett."

"Oh."

"It's only ninety minutes, we can cope. Gar and Emmett can look after the boys and we can stay in the bar."

"You can't drink yet; you're driving us to Garrett's tonight."

"Fuck, I'd forgotten that."

We're interrupted by shouts from the living room, and I run in to see Seth locked in Jared's wrestling hold. Maybe I'll take them somewhere they can go and be a long way away from me today, instead of the football.

I pull Jared aside. "Look, your attitude sucks today. You need to think about how you're behaving with people. We're not going anywhere until this afternoon, so if you want to go back to bed and read for a bit, that's fine. I know you probably don't want to hang out with us lame old people all day." I know better than to suggest sleeping.

He nods, and disappears into the spare room. I hope he sleeps for a while, or at least manages to lose the attitude.

Seth and Edward watch a film while I clear the kitchen. Edward did offer, but I'd only have to re-do it after he cleaned. I check in on Jared when I've finished, and he's asleep on the bed, thank God. I join Seth and Edward, but Edward goes to get dressed. It's a shame really – I was quite enjoying him in shorts and a t-shirt.

Once Edward is ready, he re-joins us. Seth wants to sit in between us, so we have to make do with my arm just about reaching Edward's shoulder over the back of the couch. Jared wakes up after half an hour or so, and squashes on the couch with us – clearly in a much better mood after his nap.

I make us a quick snack before we all head out to meet Garrett; no doubt, the boys will stuff themselves full of food at the football ground. Garrett's tickets are freebies from work, and for seats in a suite, so at least the food will be decent.

The match is pretty much as boring, as I suspected it would be. Edward makes a decent show of being interested – at least the experience is new for him. The kids love every second, of course, and sing along to every song they can. It's a good atmosphere when the home team wins, and I can appreciate the shirtless celebrations of the players.

"I'll see you guys at mine around eight then, okay?" Garrett says, as we prepare to go our separate ways.

I nod, and the boys say goodbye to Uncle Garrett. Traffic is horrendous and Esme is waiting outside my apartment building by the time we get back. She's in a rush, so I dash upstairs to get the boys' belongings, not wanting to leave her alone with Edward for any length of time.

Once I get back down, I see Seth in Edward's arms. The sight warms my heart, and I ruffle Seth's hair as I walk past. Jared is leaning against the car, and I pull him into a hug.

"Thanks for coming to stay."

"It's okay, Uncle C. Someone's got to keep an eye on you," he laughs.

I shake my head, but let him get away with his comment. He's growing up so quickly, it always takes me by surprise that he can be so smart in his comebacks.

Edward hands Seth off to me, and says goodbye to Jared. Seth ruffles my hair, and laughs at the grimace on my face.

"Goodbye, monster."

"Bye, Uncle Carlisle!" He squirms in my arms, so I put him down and let him climb into Esme's car.

"How were they?" she asks.

I tell her briefly about what we've been up to, and she pulls me into a hug. "Thanks, C. Thank you, Edward, too."

Edward smiles at her, and we wait on the kerb as they drive off, waving as they go.

"How long have I got you to myself for?" Edward asks.

"About an hour and a half, but we need to eat and get ready to go," I groan. I could really do with some alone time with Edward, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen.

As we walk up to my apartment, we discuss how we're going to get ready. Edward offers to cook for us, and I have to scoop my jaw back off the floor before I can reply.

"Seriously?" I ask.

"Yeah, I can cook." I raise my eyebrow at him, and he laughs. "I can!"

"Well, if I've got enough stuff in, you can. If not, we'll order out. I can't be bothered food shopping now." I'm not entirely certain I do have enough food in, really. I'd only planned to eat here when the boys were around.

Sure enough, I don't have enough in to make a decent meal, so I phone up for a Chinese. It's Saturday night, and the delivery will take awhile, so Edward and I decide to share a shower. We agree beforehand that the evening will be more interesting if we try to resist each other until we get back to hiss hotel. It doesn't mean it's easy, though, and my tiny shower isn't conducive to giving us space when we need to back off. His hands are all over me, and he has no inclination to stick to our decision. I manage to fend him off, just about, and shoo him out of the shower as soon as he's clean.

By the time I emerge, the food has arrived, and Edward has dished it up for us. He's hovering between the kitchen and the lounge holding a plate full of food, and I look at him questioningly before I pull a t-shirt on.

"I didn't know where you'd want to eat," he shrugs.

"Can I trust you not to spill anything?" I laugh, and he rolls his eyes, turning to the living room with his food.

I grab mine and follow him in, and we eat quickly while watching some mindless TV. Edward is quiet; I think he's nervous about tonight. While we've been out before, and we weren't exactly holding back, tonight has a whole different feel about it. It'll be good though, I hope.

~-DTD-~

"He looks happy," Garrett shouts in my ear.

We're in a gay club in the city centre. Tanya came out for a few drinks at a bar with us, and got on famously with Edward. I'm fairly sure Edward tried to tempt her into advertising the business in the U.S., and bringing me with her when she does. I'm not sure that it'll ever happen, but they seemed to have a good laugh talking about how it would work.

I'm pleased that Tanya got to see the lighter side of Edward. He's so abrasive in his emails, and she was clearly concerned about his attitude continuing into his private life. He's so relaxed when he's here, though, at least most of the time, and Tanya whispered her approval to me before she left.

I look across the club to where Edward and Emmett are chatting in the raised seating area. We deliberately chose to come somewhere that wasn't too flamboyant, fairly sure that this would be the first time either of them had set foot in a gay club. They're relaxed and happy here, and I'm pleased that we found somewhere we were all comfortable. Garrett was slightly put-out at his chances of picking someone up being ruined, but I suggested he meet up with Kate tomorrow, and he seemed to be a lot happier with our decision.

Edward meets my eyes across the club, and offers me a grin before continuing his conversation. I turn back to Garrett.

"Yeah, he does. He's been really relaxed this week, actually."

"How were things with the kids?"

"Good. Seth loved him. Jared was his usual too-cool self, but I think he liked him too."

"And you're still happy with everything?"

I glance back up towards Edward, who has his head thrown back in laughter, and smile. "Yeah."

"Then I'll stop being a dick to Edward. Mostly. If you're happy, I'm happy."

I smile at my best mate, pleased that he's finally accepted that Edward has changed. I pull him into a hug, and he slips his hand down to squeeze my ass briefly. I don't break the hug, but I whisper in his ear. "What are you doing?"

He shrugs, his shoulder bumping my chin slightly. "When in Rome..."

I roll my eyes, but say nothing more.

The bartender finally makes it to us, and Garrett buys drinks for all four of us. I decide to prod him a little more about Kate; it's not often that he sees a girl more than once.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Carlisle. She's a good fuck, and she can't get enough of me. Who can blame her?"

Excellent. Clearly, that's all I'm going to get from him. I can't be bothered arguing it out; he'll tell me when he's ready.

We make our way back to Edward and Emmett, and they both smile gratefully when they see us approach. We were gone quite a long time.

Edward pulls me into his side as I slide into the booth that they've snagged. His lips immediately go to my neck, and I grin. He's been handsy all evening, a little deprivation doing him wonders. "Drink up," I order. "Then we can go and dance, and you can touch me as much as you want."

"There's no way I can touch you exactly how I want in the middle of a dance floor. No way. I can't dance, anyway. I doubt even having you there will change that."

"I'll show you how," Garrett offers. I raise my eyebrow at him, he's just said he was going to stop winding Edward up. "I will," he insists. "We dance well together, and I can show Edward what to do. Then Emmett and I can stand there looking like awkward straight boys while you two grind away."

I look at Edward, and he shrugs. "Nothing would be worse than me trying to dance on my own. Trust me."

Okay, then. Apparently, Garrett will be teaching my boyfriend how to dance. I sip my drink, and try to work out how I feel about that. I'm not worried really; Garrett is straight. I'm more concerned about how Edward and I will react. Edward clearly has a bit of a crush on Garrett, even if he doesn't know it, and I'm not entirely sure how I'll deal with seeing them together like that. I'll have to deal with it, though, and I know that anything that winds Edward up even more can only be good for me.

We finish our drinks, and head out to the dance floor. Garrett grabs me and we start to move together effortlessly. We've done this a few times over the years, whether to ward off other people, or just because we needed to dance. Edward and Emmett are getting more drinks at the bar, but Edward's eyes are fixed on me. I smile at him, and shoot him a wink, before concentrating on Garrett.

"Edward's going to fuck your brains out tonight," Garrett laughs. "You can thank me later."

"I'll get you a beer one night next week."

"Beer works." His hands dip down to my waist, and he bites his lip. "Is this okay? I don't want to cross any boundaries."

That was the least Garrett-like thing I've ever heard him say. "Seriously?"

"No, I'm just fucking with you," he laughs. "I don't care."

I shake my head, and look back over at Edward and Emmett. They've got drinks already – Edward must have worked his magic on the bartender – so I pull back from Garrett and we head over towards them.

"You know, I could teach Edward to dance," I point out as we walk.

"I know you could. I just thought he and I could do with some bonding time, that's all."

It's not a bad idea. I know that Edward likes Garrett, but I think my best friend could stand to make a few positive gestures toward my boyfriend.

Edward grabs hold of the front of my t-shirt as soon as I am within arm's length of him, and presses his mouth to mine, his tongue darting into my mouth.

"You're mine," he whispers against my lips, when he pulls back slightly.

"I know," I laugh. "Feel free to prove it when we start dancing, and when we get back to your hotel room."

"I intend to," he murmurs before downing the rest of his drink. He grabs Garrett, and they head off to the dance floor.

I lean against the bar and watch as Garrett grabs Edward's hips and helps him move. In all honesty, I think Edward is a perfectly fine dancer. Maybe he was just worried because it would be his first time dancing with me. I let him continue practising with Garrett, though. I'm fairly sure we won't last long here when we start dancing, so we might as well make a go of being sociable.

Turning to Emmett, I ask him how he's enjoying being over here.

"It's good. Edward's different here; it's good to see him relaxing."

"You must miss home, though?" I feel terrible that Edward is creating reasons to come over here, and dragging Emmett with him.

"Yeah, but it's only a week or so. I can cope. I think my wife quite enjoys the peace, she can watch her ridiculous TV shows without me complaining about them," he laughs.

"How long have you been married?"

"Five years or so." He smiles, and I can't help but reflect his expression.

"Kids?"

"Not yet. I still travel a bit too much for that. Hopefully soon though; I like kids."

"Jared and Seth liked you," I tell him. They really did. Not only does he have a cool accent like Edward, he doesn't hide the fact that he adores sports. And Harry Potter.

His grin is wide. "I liked them, too. They're cool little guys."

I nod, my attention suddenly drawn over to where the other two are dancing. Garrett's arms are wrapped around Edward's shoulders, while Edward's hands are resting lightly on my best friend's waist. They're hardly even moving, Garrett clearly engrossed in telling Edward a story. I bet it's an embarrassing one about me, the fucker. Right on cue, Edward's eyes dart over to me before he starts laughing.

"You ready to go and cut in?"

Emmett nods, and I stride over to rescue my boyfriend from Garrett's clutches.

"Don't believe a word he just told you," I warn as I pull Edward away from my best mate.

"Really? So you didn't vomit over the first boy you wanted to ask out?"

I glare at Garrett, who has retreated to the bar with Emmett – clearly they're not up for awkward straight guy dancing quite yet. He grins back and I flip him off before dragging Edward slightly further away from them.

"Well, maybe I did," I admit. "I was really, really drunk."

"Did you end up dating?" he asks, pulling me closer to him by my belt loops.

I laugh. "No. I couldn't face him again."

My arms reach up to his shoulders, and we start to move together slowly. The music has a steady beat, and people around us seem to be in various stages of foreplay. We stay on the fringes, both of the crowd, and of the palpable sexual tension. While Edward is more than confident in our status, I'm not a hundred percent sure he'd want me grinding up against him. I don't want to put him off coming out with me again, because I really want to grind up against him sometime soon.

He, however, has other ideas. "You know, Garrett danced closer to me than this. Are you scared you're going to vomit on me or something?" He yanks me forward a little, so that our hips meet, and his hands splay across my lower back, a couple of his fingers resting on my ass. I can feel his erection pressing against me, and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"I hope that's for me and not because of Garrett?"

"Oh, it's all yours. Trust me," he grins.

"Good."

We move together for a while, grinding slightly, his fingers working their way under my t-shirt to tease my skin, while my fingers clutch uselessly at the fabric of his. Occasionally he dips his head down to bury in my neck, kissing and nipping his way along it before claiming my lips. He's teasing me, flirting with me, dancing with me, just _being_ with me, and it feels amazing. I'm not sure I want to give him back to the U.S. any more. I don't want to share him with Chicago. I don't want there to be clothes between us right now, let alone a fucking ocean. I want this, every weekend.

My eyes close almost involuntarily, as I try to stop the wave of emotion from completely overcoming me.

It doesn't work.

I lift one of my hands to Edward's cheek, my thumb caressing it slowly – a total contrast to the way we have been dancing with each other up until now. His eyes meet mine, and I try not to give away how I'm feeling, but he reads me like a fucking book.

"Are you okay?"

I nod, but don't reply verbally.

"No, you're not. What's up?"

"I'm just going to miss you."

He smiles a rueful smile. "I don't leave until Tuesday."

"I know," I sigh. "I'm just being a soppy dickhead. Forget I said anything."

"You're not soppy. You're kinda cute." He brings me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me fully and moving us slowly from side-to-side but otherwise not even pretending to be dancing any more.

I shake my head at his words, still feeling quite off-balance after my realisation.

"Do you want to head back to the hotel?" he asks.

"No, let's go and sit with Gar and Emmett for a bit." We've been quite anti-social for a large portion of this evening. "We can have another drink and then go? You won't pass out on me tonight, will you? I've got plans."

"Oh, I definitely won't be passing out after that promise."

We stop by the bar and collect some more drinks before finding Gar and Emmett, who are in a booth talking sports, no surprises there. Edward and I have to sit opposite each other, and I trap his leg in-between mine once we are seated, wanting to keep some contact between us. He has the same idea, laying his hand on the tabletop so that I can rest mine in it.

Sipping our drinks, we listen to Garrett and Emmett debating something or other, and then they bring us into the discussion as talk turns to our plans for tomorrow. I'm scheduled to drive Emmett to the airport in the afternoon, but apart from that, we don't have many plans. I don't think Edward and I intend to leave his hotel room much, if I'm honest - which I'm obviously not about to reveal to Garrett.

"I'm not sure, yet. I considered doing something touristy, but it's a bank holiday weekend so it'll be a nightmare."

"You could just stay in your hotel room and have sex," Garrett laughs.

Great minds think alike, clearly.

"There's always that."

Edward squeezes my hand tighter, and I'm fairly sure we're not going to last much longer in public. I need to be as close to him as I can possibly get.

Emmett saves me from having to think of a plausible excuse to leave, as he downs the rest of his drink and announces that he should probably head off. We're all staying at the hotel tonight – apart from Garrett, who's going home – so it makes more sense that we all leave together. Garrett decides to head onto another club to meet up with some of his work friends. I think he's hoping to get lucky. I'm surprised he didn't complain more about having to come to a gay club with us, to be honest. He really has made an effort tonight.

We eventually find a cab to take us back to the hotel. I try to keep my hands off Edward as much as possible on the journey, not wanting Emmett to feel uncomfortable, even though he is in the passenger seat. Edward has no such reservations, almost trying to lie over me in the back of the car. His hands are everywhere, and I have to bite my lip to stop my moan when he rubs my rapidly hardening cock through my jeans. I try to glare at him, but I know my eyes are full of nothing but lust, and he doesn't even waver in his movements. Throwing my head back against the seat, I close my eyes and try to forget about the fact that we're in someone's car. He's not doing anything too bad, just teasing movements, and Emmett is keeping the driver chatting, so it's not like it'll be noticed. I can't help but think of how much I'd cringe if someone did this while I was driving them, though, and I reluctantly move his hand off me slightly.

He leans towards me, nipping my earlobe gently before checking, "That's just because we're in a car, right?"

I nod, and he pulls back with a triumphant grin. He grabs my hand, and remains content with that contact for the rest of the journey. His thumb rubs across my knuckles frequently, a small tell that belies his calm exterior.

The minute we are in his suite, Edward is tugging at my clothes while walking me backwards to the bedroom, his lips teasing at my neck. I crash into about five pieces of furniture on the way, as neither of us can see where we're going. This is why places need to be uncluttered.

By the time we reach the bed, I'm naked apart from my boxer briefs, and Edward isn't far behind. I untangle myself from his arms to give him time to undress completely, and crawl onto the bed on all fours. I don't even make it to the head of the bed before he is over me again. He pushes me down against the mattress, grinding his erection against my ass while nipping at the back of my neck.

He pulls away, yanking my underwear down slightly as he does, and leans over to grab the lube that we'd left handy by the bed. I stay lying on my front, and awkwardly kick my last item of clothing off before Edward rejoins me.

"Eager?" he chuckles. I don't bother to reply. He's just as bad as I am.

I shift so that I'm on my knees again, but rest on my elbows as Edward starts to get me ready. We don't need much foreplay – the entire fucking evening has been foreplay enough – but Edward still takes his time. His fingers are slow and teasing, his lips kissing whatever skin he can reach as he slowly works me into a writhing mess.

I'm moving against him, trying to tempt him into going faster, harder, and he laughs softly. "You really are eager." He's such an ass.

I look at him over my shoulder, and his fingers falter as our eyes meet. "I'm eager for you to fuck me, yes."

His eyes close briefly at my words, and he pulls his hand back, wiping the lube off on a towel before opening a condom. At fucking last. I close my eyes, fisting my hands in the sheets to try to regain some control of myself – his teasing has just about pushed me to the edge. I've managed to calm slightly by the time Edward has prepared himself.

The towel falls to the floor beside the bed for later, and Edward's lube-free hands come to rest on my hips as he steadies us. A groan escapes past my lips as he pushes inside me, his hands sliding up my back and into my hair as he catches his breath.

As soon as we have both adjusted to the sensations, he starts to move, his hands reaching under my body as I push up onto my forearms. His hand wraps around my cock and I hiss out a curse at his touch; I am far too close to coming already. His movements start to slow almost as soon as he builds up a good rhythm, though, and I turn my head as he starts to speak.

"Fuck." He shakes his head and pulls backwards. I try not to complain at his actions, but I really want to know what the fuck he's doing.

"You need to turn over," he tells me, sitting back on his heels.

"Doesn't my ass do it for you?" I laugh. I do as he asks, shifting up the bed slightly so I can rest my head on a pillow. It makes it easier to watch what's going on.

"Your ass is more than perfect," he says as he lies over me again. "But I need to see you; I need to be able to see your face."

I lace my fingers through his hair and pull him down to me, moaning into our kiss as he pushes inside me again. My back arches up towards him as he starts to move slowly, steadily. My hands remain in his hair, while his rest under my shoulders, holding me close to him.

His head drops to my shoulder as he starts to move again, his choppy breaths hot against my skin. I fist his hair, tugging a little to get him to move. He drags his lips up my neck and along my cheek, his slow path a contrast to his unrelenting hips. Keeping his eyes on mine, he drops a soft kiss on my lips, biting my lower lip gently as he pulls back.

"Fuck, Carlisle," he whispers.

My cock is held tight between our warm bodies, and I can feel myself being propelled towards my orgasm with an almost startling force. Edward's forehead is resting against mine, both of us too lost to do anything beyond move against each other. He tries to shift so he can reach down to touch my cock, but I don't need it, and I grab his hand before he can get very far.

He rests our hands by my head, the backs of his fingers running along my cheek intermittently, the desperation for as much contact as we can manage almost overwhelming.

I use my free hand to bring him back down for a kiss, and he hums into it. "I'm close," he says apologetically.

"Me too." I shift my legs up further, so they are around his waist, and he groans at the change in sensation, his hips moving harder and faster immediately.

The position does everything I need it to. He taps against my prostate once, twice, and I'm done. I couldn't hold it back if I tried, and Edward is right there with me, his hands clutching onto me tightly as he groans out his release.

We lie there for a minute as we catch our breath, Edward eventually rolls off me, and I grab the towel from the floor. We don't speak – I'm not quite sure what just happened, but everything feels different.

As always, I need a shower, and after fully recovering, I stand up and head into the bathroom, dropping a quick kiss on Edward's lips before I do.

Edward joins me as I'm mid-wash.

"That was new, huh?" he grins, taking the shower gel from me.

I nod, still not a hundred percent sure on what's going on. I feel strange, like things are better between us, and yet infinitely scarier at the same time.

"Good new?" he questions, obviously slightly put-off by my silence.

"Good new," I confirm.

He washes himself quickly, occasionally stopping to kiss me or soap-up parts of my body. I step back a little to allow him to rinse off, and as soon as he is done, he pushes me against the wall.

"I know it's way too early for serious feelings," he says, his hands rubbing up and down my arms. "But I want you to know that I'm kinda getting there."

Fuck. I close my eyes, and he rushes to continue.

"I don't mean you have to be there, too. I just wanted you to know. Tonight felt different and I thought maybe it wasn't all just coming from me."

"It wasn't just from you." I reach my hand up to cup his cheek. We're not there yet, I don't love him yet, but it's definitely heading that way.

He smiles a beautiful smile at me, and kisses me before ducking out of the shower.

I'm so fucked.

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at 45 Park Lane 13:00, Sunday 29__th__ August. Name "McCarty." Drop off at LHR._

.

Edward accompanies Emmett on his journey. We all eat a quick lunch together in the hotel restaurant before we leave, the guys spending the entire time talking about work. Even though I now know more about Edward's job, it still mainly passes over my head. Edward's hand is constantly touching me on my leg, or my arm, or my hand, and it makes it hard to concentrate on anything.

The drive to the airport is much of the same; Edward sits up front with me and spends most of his time twisted round in his seat to talk to Emmett while resting his hand on my thigh. It's all very distracting and, by the time we reach Heathrow, I'm not sure whether I want to kill him or fuck him.

I grab us some coffees while Edward and Emmett say goodbye, and by the time I've got our drinks and made it back, Edward is alone.

"Hey, I was just about to call you and check you hadn't got lost," he grins.

"Don't you remember the queues earlier in the week?" He grimaces at my question, and I laugh before continuing. "Well, now it's a bank holiday weekend, so it's a million times worse."

I hand him his drink, and we walk back to the car. I grab my bag out of the boot – there's no way I'm spending the rest of the day in my work clothes. Even Edward is in a t-shirt and shorts today; it's far too fucking hot.

I dash back into the airport to change quickly, not really wanting to waste any of my time with him. The next time we come here, it'll be to say goodbye again.

Slipping back into the car, I grab my coffee from the cup holder. I don't know how it can still taste so good on a scorching day like this, but it does.

I drive us to Osterley Park, somewhere that has nice gardens and an old Eighteenth Century mansion for when it gets too unbearably hot to be outside.

We walk through the gardens first – even though they are jam-packed with families, before Edward spots a sign that makes him laugh with delight.

"They have a tea room? I didn't think the cliché was true about English people drinking tea. Can we go?"

I nod, rolling my eyes at his reasoning.

He orders us both tea and cake, and insists on speaking in the worst English accent that I've ever heard. The level of his voice seems to increase in direct proportion to my embarrassment, and I'm fairly sure I've never eaten a slice of cake so fast in my entire life. I grab us both an ice-cream, and pull Edward out of the tea-shop as soon as he's finished eating.

"Didn't you like my efforts?" he laughs. He takes a long lick of his ice-cream and makes me forget why I was bothered in the first place.

I shake my head, and take his hand as we walk around some more. It's nice to see him this happy and carefree, even if it is at the expense of my culture. He's normally always got work in the back of his mind, but Emmett going back to Chicago seems to have lifted that weight off his shoulders. I like it.

"So, I know about vomit guy. But what about other relationships?" Edward's question comes out of the blue. We've found some shade under a tree, and I'm lying with my head in his lap. We've been sitting in a comfortable silence for a while, Edward running his hand through my hair occasionally. Clearly, he was building up to this.

"The vomit guy was never a relationship. I had one serious relationship, from about twenty-three to twenty-seven ish. His name was Marcus. He was one of Garrett's friends from university."

"What happened?"

"He was cheating. He had been for about a year I think, by the time I found out."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah. He was a dick." I shake my head. I don't really want to talk about Marcus. It happened, and it was awful. I don't really want to relive it. Garrett still beats himself up for introducing us in the first place, never mind not realising what was going on. I need to get the focus off me, so I flip the question round onto Edward. "What about you?"

"Well, I've had a couple of serious relationships I guess. One from high school that ended when we went to different colleges. The other one was from the last year of college and into a few years beyond that. That one ended because she thought I worked too much."

I laugh. "You? Working too much? I can't believe that."

He shoves my shoulder a little. "I've slacked off the last few times I've been here. I can't think why."

"It's because we have great sex."

"That's true."

I smile up at him, trying to figure out what I want to say in my head before blurting it out. He gets there first, though.

"I think what I classed as a serious relationship before doesn't quite have the same meaning now. I mean, things with you feel different."

"It's probably because I'm a guy," I joke, but I know exactly what he means.

He stays quiet, and I sit up, feeling bad that I'm teasing him when he's trying to be honest. I straddle his outstretched legs, and cup his face in my hands. "I feel the same way."

His smile is shy. "Really?"

"Yeah."

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at 45 Park Lane 12:00, Tuesday 31__st__ August. Name "Masen." Drop off at LHR._

.

I groan at the email alert on my phone, throwing it back onto the nightstand.

"What's up?" Edward is half lying on my chest, still not fully out of his post-coital bliss. We really need to get up and get ready to go, but I am feeling stubborn today.

"I don't want to go to work."

"But you're driving me today," he frowns.

"Exactly. I don't want you to go."

He breathes out a laugh, taking hold of my hand and giving it a squeeze. "Does it make you feel better to know that I don't want to go, either?"

"Not really."

Eventually he manages to drag me out of bed and into the shower. I'm not entirely sure what it is about him going back that makes me turn into a petulant five year-old but I don't like it.

We packed last night, so it doesn't take long to throw the last few bits and pieces in and send them downstairs with the porter. I go to follow, but Edward holds me back.

"Just wait one second."

I stand by the wall next to the door, curious as to what he wants. We don't have time for a blowjob.

"I know I said it was too soon for feelings, and it probably is. This isn't a declaration of love or anything, but I want you to know that I'm fairly sure it will be soon. Like, really soon. This..." he tails off and shakes his head, struggling to find the right words. "_You_ mean a lot to me."

My hands are already around his waist and I pull him tightly to me.

"I feel the same way. You know that, right?"

He nods into my shoulder before bringing his head up for a kiss. My hands tighten around his dress shirt, and I can't even bring myself to care about the fact it'll be creasing. He's doing the exact same thing on my back, and I don't care about that, either.

Eventually, we have to pull back or we'll be late to the airport.

"Come on, you. The sooner you're back in Chicago, the sooner you can figure out when you're coming back."

Edward laughs, and takes hold of my hand. "Is this okay? I know you're working now."

I can't bring myself to care. Tanya can shove it.

"It's more than okay," I smile.

He hardly lets go of my hand again, only releasing me when absolutely necessary. I pull him into a quiet corner of the airport – not that there are many at this time of year – and he wraps his arms around me.

"I'm going to miss you," he murmurs in my ear.

"I'll miss you too."

I really fucking will. Fuck.

"Text me when you're home? I'll text you when I'm in the departures lounge."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak for fear of begging him to stay.

"I'll see you soon, okay? I'll sort it the minute I'm back, I promise." He presses a kiss to my lips, and I run my hands through his hair one last time before he walks through to security.

This fucking sucks.

My phone buzzes in my pocket before I'm even out of the airport doors.

"_I miss you. Fuck. I miss you already. My second task after booking another trip over is to start figuring out how to get rid of the ocean between us. That's a promise, too. Edward."_

* * *

**These few weeks will be crazy busy for me, so the next chapter will be up around March 3rd, maybe a little before.  
**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. I've been messing around with this chapter this morning, though, so if there's any errors - it's on me.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

The familiar Skype tune plays out from my living room, and I cringe slightly at the thought of leaving my meal half-prepared. This is the only time Edward and I could fit in to talk this week, though, and he's giving up his lunch break for it. I cover my food up, wash my hands, and run out to my laptop.

He's given up by the time I get there, but I call back immediately. He answers, and I smile at the sight of him. Skype is one of the best inventions of our time.

"Hi, Edward."

"Hey, I worried you didn't want to speak to me for a minute, then," he laughs.

"I was in the kitchen, cooking. Sorry."

"No worries. I know it's a meal time for you, too." I notice that he's not actually eating, though. I don't particularly want to see him chewing, but I'd cope if it meant he was actually eating when he should be. Probably.

"How's work?" I ask, ignoring the food issue. I'm not going to encourage him to eat over Skype. I'm not mad.

"The usual – pretty stressful. They're trying to sell our software to a casino in Vegas, so everyone's working over to make sure the pitch is as good as we can get it."

I laugh. "That's usual?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I drove to fucking Brighton today. So, you know, don't go thinking your day is too exciting."

"Isn't that by the sea? Why aren't you excited about that?"

"Because I'm not six years old? It's a long way away. And it's still too fucking hot," I grumble.

"You're in such a good mood today, Carlisle." I can see the grin on his face and I shake my head at his words.

"Sorry. It's been a long day." It really has. I was up at five o'clock this morning for a fucking airport run, and then had to hang around Heathrow for near enough three hours for the Brighton trip. I fucking hate hanging around.

"You're done now though, right?"

"Yeah, and off work tomorrow morning, too."

"I'm surprised you're not out with Garrett."

I look away from the laptop for a second, and Edward laughs. "You're meeting up with him later?"

"No, we were going to meet up, but I said I was busy with you tonight."

He smiles, and I fight the overwhelming urge to stroke the screen. He's so fucking cute when he's happy.

"You didn't have to," he offers.

"No, it's fine. I see Gar all the time, but I haven't spoken to you properly in ages."

"Was he okay about it?"

"Yeah. He made some joke about Skype sex and that was it."

Edward's eyes flick up, presumably to his office door and I laugh. "I told him you were at work, but apparently that might not stop you."

I can see Edward's nose scrunch up; he's clearly considering the possibility. I hadn't really thought about doing this today, but I'm sure I could find myself in the mood if Edward's up for it.

Finally, he shakes his head. "I think Emmett might barge in or something."

"Don't you have a lock on your door?" Apparently, I'm more up for Skype sex than I thought I was.

"Yeah, but Em has a key."

"Oh, I guess we'd better not, then."

He taps his fingers on his desk before looking up at me with a wicked grin. "You could jerk off and I could watch," he suggests. My face obviously expresses my thoughts at that idea, and he laughs. "It was worth a try."

I take a sip of my drink, and watch Edward fidget for a minute. He's clearly working up to telling me something, so I let him get on with it.

"I'm flying out to Vegas in a couple of weeks. Jasper is coming too, with Alice and Bella. I think I'm going to tell them about us."

Holy shit. An involuntary smile spreads across my face. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's time. Alice will be cool with it, I'm sure. Then she can be around when I tell my parents, too."

Fuck, I wish I could hug him right now. I'm so fucking happy that he's taking this step – finally. Even though I've been fairly certain he's in this for good, part of me has been holding back, waiting for him to finally come out.

"That's amazing, I'm so pleased."

"I can tell from the grin on your face. I'm sorry I didn't tell you in person now, I bet there would have been a blow job in it."

"I'll owe you one," I promise.

"Plus interest?"

I roll my eyes, but I'm happy he's still in such a playful mood having revealed such big plans. "Yes, plus interest." I pause for a minute, something occurring to me. "Wait, how long before you next get here? The interest could end up being ridiculous."

"Well, that's my other bit of news."

I smile, hoping for something good. He's struggled to find a convenient time to get over here again, work having been so busy that time off wasn't an option, despite his determination.

"If this deal in Vegas goes ahead, I should be able to come out straight after."

"When do you go to Vegas, again?"

"Two weeks."

"So you could be here in sixteen days then, wunderkind?"

"I'm not quite that good. But I'm confident the deal will be all but sealed within a week. I could be in England by the middle of October."

"That soon?"

"Yeah. I just go out to double check that the system has everything they need; personal service, you know? Once that's done, I can let everyone else take over."

"Then you can come and visit again?"

"Yes. I'm taking it as vacation time, too, so I won't have to work at all while I'm out there."

"Seriously?" I feel like he's throwing all this good news at me today, I'm waiting for the bad.

"Yeah. I was thinking we could go away somewhere?"

"In the UK?"

"Anywhere."

"I'll speak to Tanya and see if I can get the time off. It's pretty short notice," I cringe.

"Tell her if she doesn't, I'll just book you for the week." He pauses with a grimace. "Will that ever not sound seedy?"

"Probably not," I laugh. "I'll see what she says, anyway. I've been working my ass off the last few weeks, so she owes me some time off."

"Don't work your ass off completely, I'd miss it."

"We'd just have to use yours instead," I tease, carefully monitoring Edward's reaction. Even with the crappy pixelated picture, I can see his cheeks redden.

"I guess we would," he laughs before looking at his watch and sighing. "I'd better get back to work. The more time I spend on this program, the less chance there is of needing to rewrite it for them in Vegas."

"Which means you can get to me sooner?"

"Exactly."

"I won't complain, then."

"Good. Email me?"

"Yeah, I will."

We still try to catch each other by email, and I make sure I email him each night before I go to bed. I usually have one waiting for me when I wake up. Sometimes the time difference isn't such a bad thing.

"Let me know what Tanya says, and I'll try to figure out what I'm doing here."

I nod. He's stalling, trying to drag out the conversation a little more, and while it's cute, I know he really does need to get back to work.

"I'll speak to you soon, okay? We'll try and Skype again next week."

"Yeah, I'm around most evenings so if you have a free lunch break it should work out."

"Good. Not seeing your face for a while makes me sad," he laughs. I can hear the truth in his words, despite him trying to shrug them off.

"Me too," I admit. However, now we have something to look forward to it's not as bad. "It's not too long to wait if you can get over in a few weeks, though."

"I know, thank God." There's a knock at his door, and he glances over the laptop screen. "That's Emmett. I really should go."

"Okay. Work hard."

"I always do. Bye, Carlisle."

"Bye." I lift my hand up to wave to him, but the call is disconnected before I can.

I rest my head back on the sofa, trying to process everything he's told me in the last ten minutes. He's coming out to his family, and coming over to visit me sooner than I thought. I had six weeks' notice last time, so I was expecting him to be over in mid-November at the earliest. I need to think of somewhere for us to go away, too.

The relief spreads through me as I think of him coming out to his family. I hadn't realised quite how heavily it was weighing on me, but I feel so much lighter knowing that we are getting somewhere; our relationship feels more real now – less one-sided.

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars **_

_Pickup at LGW 09:30, Monday 11__th__ October. Meet at arrivals. Name "Black." Drop off at Harbour Club, Chelsea._

_._

Driving to Gatwick in rush hour is not my favourite thing to do. I suppose it's better than having to drive into the city centre at this time, though.

I wait for the client at arrivals, and he shows up looking nothing like the typical Platinum Cars user. Dressed in clothes more often seen at a sports field, he greets me with a wide grin and thrusts his hand out.

"Jacob Black."

"Carlisle Cullen."

As I shake his hand, I cringe at the thought they might have been somewhere disgusting. I'll have to get some antibacterial gel on mine while I return his luggage trolley.

Jacob chatters away as we drive to his destination. As with everywhere in London, it takes us much longer than it should to get to where we're going, and his conversation is actually quite welcome. He owns a chain of gyms in America, and is visiting to check out the exclusive gyms here, to see if he can add anything to his.

"Do you go to the gym much, Carlisle?"

"Uh, no, not really. Can't you tell?" I laugh.

"You look perfectly fine to me." My eyes meet his in the mirror, and he winks at me. Holy shit, is he flirting?

"Thanks. I probably should go to the gym, though. Do you know of many good ones in London?" I need to get him away from any conversation about my body. He's hot, and I haven't seen Edward in a while – a fact that my cock is reminding me of as it comes to life slightly when Jacob meets my eyes once more. I don't want him, but the attention is nice.

"A few." He rattles off a few names I have no intention of remembering while I concentrate on getting us to his destination. I used to be able to deal quite well with a bit of flirtation; it's an ego boost and nothing more – well, sometimes it's nothing more. Now that Edward is so firmly in the picture, though, I feel like I should shut Jacob down immediately or something.

We finally pull up outside the Harbour Club, Jacob rambling on about whether or not babysitting facilities at gyms are a good idea or not, and me still trying to figure out what to say if he pushes it further.

I grab his bag for him, and he presses a tip into my hand as he shakes it. "My business card is in there, too," he says quietly. "You can call me if you want; I bet we could have plenty of fun. I can give you a workout without you having to go near a gym."

Unsure how to respond, I just nod dumbly as he walks into the club.

I pull out my phone before sitting back in the car. He won't be awake yet, but it can't hurt to send a quick email to Edward letting him know I miss him.

Jacob's business card goes into the glove compartment to pass on to Tanya. She likes to have extra details about our clients, although I'm fairly sure she'll know everything that's on it already. I'm sure she'll have a good laugh about my story, if nothing else.

~-DTD-~

"What was his name?" Edward's brow is furrowed, and it kills me that I can't reach out and smooth it. He has no reason to be annoyed, but I can see why my news about Jacob has stressed him a little.

It's been a couple of days since the journey with Jacob, but it's the first chance Edward and I have had to Skype. He's in Vegas, and completely snowed under with work. It's one a.m. here, but I can't complain about the time – talking to Edward is worth a bit of tiredness the next day.

I can't figure out why Jacob's name is important to Edward – I didn't think that's what he would focus on. "Why does that matter?"

"It just does. If he owns gyms here, I want to make sure our company never uses them."

I roll my eyes. "Edward, it was harmless flirting. I only told you because I didn't want it to come up at some point down the line and cause problems."

"Why would it come up later? Did you give him your number?"

"No, but I told Garrett about it, and he's bound to bring it up at some point." Even if he didn't mean to, Garrett could quite easily put his foot in it. It's not worth the risk of explaining what happened, and then explaining to Edward why I didn't tell him. I'd rather just get it all out in the open now. Nothing happened, it's no big deal.

Edward nods, he knows my best friend well enough to understand that it's more than likely. "Did you flirt back?"

"Of course not."

"Okay. So what was his name?"

"I'm not sure I'm allowed to tell you."

"Carlisle, you're not a doctor for fuck's sake. You were only driving the guy somewhere."

I swallow down the bolt of anger that travels through me at his words. He didn't mean that my job isn't important, but that's how it felt.

"Jacob Black." I don't think we're under a confidentiality clause in the service, but I just have to hope that Edward hasn't heard of him.

I have no such luck.

"Fuck," Edward groans. "He owns one of the biggest exclusive gyms in Chicago."

"What can I say? I'm a magnate magnet."

Edward tilts his head for a second before collapsing into laughter. I smile, pleased to have finally broken the tension. The distance is seriously wearing on us, and the Vegas meetings aren't going as smoothly as Edward had hoped.

I've cancelled my week off, and the hotel I had booked for us.

Edward's laughter dies down, and he blows out a breath. "Hey, so I'm going out with Alice and Jasper tonight for a meal. I'm going to tell them about us."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Jasper's parents have come out to visit, so they're taking Bella for the night. We have to do a bit of work while we're out, but I'm going to tell them when I get a chance."

Even though he'd told me he was planning on coming out, to hear that it's so immediate makes my heart race. I can't imagine how he's feeling.

"Will you be around when I get back?" he asks.

"Depends how long you take to eat," I laugh. I really need to go to bed, but I could always get up early.

"We're not meeting until eight tonight, I probably won't be back until quite late. Hopefully not too late, though, we're still working tomorrow."

"Just call me when you're ready, my phone is always on so I'll hear it, even if I'm sleeping."

He nods. "I will." He glances at something behind his computer and groans. "I need to go. We've got another meeting before the end of the day."

"Okay. I'll speak to you later. Good luck with tonight. I'm sure it'll go fine."

"Thanks, Carlisle. Sleep well, and I'll call you as soon as I'm back."

We end the call, and I head straight to bed, exhausted. I don't sleep soundly, though, too worried about Edward for my brain to completely shut down.

My phone rings, and I groan before rolling over to answer it. It feels like I've been asleep for about ten minutes, but a glance at the clock on the display tells me I'm wrong. However five hours sleep still won't cut it, unless I lose the hours to Edward being here, of course.

"Can you get on Skype?" he says, in lieu of a greeting.

"Uh, yeah I guess so. Give me five minutes."

I end the call before rolling out of bed to grab my laptop from the other room. I bring it back into my bedroom with me – sitting up feels like too much effort right now.

The minute the laptop is lying next to me and booted up, Edward is calling.

"Jesus," he groans when the picture finally connects. "Are you in bed?"

"It's seven o'clock in the morning, of course I'm in bed." He, on the other hand, is sat at a desk in his hotel room, his hair all over the place, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and looking entirely too fuckable for someone who is five thousand miles away.

"You shouldn't have laptops in bed with you, they might overheat," he gently chastises.

I roll my eyes but sit up against the headboard, laying the laptop on my legs.

"This better?"

I can tell his gaze is on my bare chest, and he shifts in his seat before he replies. "Yeah, but I think I might overheat now."

Laughing, I scrub a hand over my face in an attempt to wake myself up a little more. I'm so not a morning person. "So how did it go?" I ask, dropping my hand so that I can see his reaction properly.

He smiles, and I feel any lingering tension disappear. "Really well. They were surprised, of course, but they were happy for me." He pauses for a second before his smile becomes even brighter. "For us."

"That's great!" I really am pleased it went so well for him.

"Alice wants to come with Jasper next time he flies over, so she can meet you." My eyes widen, and Edward laughs. "Don't worry; he doesn't need to be in London much."

"If they bring Bella I can get them to meet up with Jared and Seth. Then they'll be too busy worrying that my nephews are corrupting their daughter to be bothered about me."

"They'll love you," he protests.

I stay quiet.

"What's up?"

I sigh, not really wanting to get into this. Edward made a huge leap for me today though, so I should return the favour. "Marcus's family didn't think I was good enough for him. He was a high flier, and I'm just... me. And now you're you, and I'm still just me."

Edward's eyes close for a minute, and I shift uncomfortably on the bed, jostling my laptop.

It feels like a lifetime before he opens his eyes and speaks. "Marcus and his family are clearly dicks. It doesn't matter what job you do. My family won't care about that, I promise."

I nod, not entirely believing him, but unwilling to argue about it. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

We sit quietly for a minute, digesting what has been admitted in the last few hours. Edward finally breaks the silence. "Jasper thinks he can help me get transferred to the London branch."

"What?" While we have talked about him moving over here, it's never really been more than a discussion about hypotheticals.

"He thinks he can go over and make some noise about expanding in Europe. It something that needs to be done but they don't really have anyone to lead it. The base of the business is here, they're just support, really."

"In swoops Edward Masen?"

"In swoops Edward Masen," he confirms. "That's half of the reason we had that trip around the country a few months back. They need me to go in and really sell it."

"Wow." I don't really know how to respond. Thinking about Marcus has thrown me off kilter, and I feel terrible that I'm not reacting the way that I should be to the news.

Edward's face falls slightly. "Is me moving over still what you want?"

I jump to reassure him. "Of course I do. I just wasn't expecting it to be anywhere near this fast."

"It won't be for a while yet," he frowns. "We'll have to do a pretty convincing job of persuading everyone that it's needed, and then that there's only me that can do it. It'll take some planning."

"Will it be a permanent move?" I ask.

"Not at first. They'll want me to prove that I'm up to it. Then we'd have to talk about making it permanent." He grins suddenly. "I guess it depends on whether or not you're still willing to put up with me, too."

I raise my eyebrows, but don't reply. I would guess it probably depends more on whether he can deal with me than the other way around, but it's an argument I don't really feel like having.

His grin falters at my silence. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Of course I am." I pause, debating whether or not to be honest with him. "I'm sorry that I'm being weird. Thinking about Marcus always makes me feel a bit crap, that's all. I'm honestly pleased you might be able to move over here long-term. You being in America fucking sucks."

Edward laughs, probably slightly out of relief. I feel terrible that I'm worrying him, but I can't seem to shake the dark cloud that has settled over me.

"It really does. Speaking of which, we're fairly hopeful we can get this deal done by the middle of the next week. I'm looking into booking a flight over for a week on Saturday, does that work for you?"

I grab my phone to check the calendar. "I'm working during the day on Saturday and Sunday. There's a few jobs booked in for the week, but I guess it's nothing Tanya can't pass on to anyone else. How long will you stay?"

"For the week, I hope. I'm going to try and find us somewhere to go away if you can get the time off. I feel bad that you went to all that trouble, and then we had to cancel. I'm going to try to tag on some work in London on the end of it, so I can stay longer, too."

"Preparing them for your takeover?"

"Something like that," he laughs.

"It'll be good to see you again," I murmur. It feels like forever since I last saw him – work has severely limited our talking opportunities. The distance has felt quite noticeable this time around, and it's fucking horrible.

"You too. I've never known months to drag as much as they have this year."

I laugh humourlessly. I know exactly what he means. The last few months have dragged on in a monotony of countdowns and feelings that I'm not quite sure what to do with. The only time I feel completely put together is when Edward's here, and that's the only fucking time that the days go quickly.

I'm hit with a wave of emotion, and my arms reach out to hold the casing at the side of my laptop screen, as if it'll make me feel like I'm holding Edward.

It doesn't.

"I fucking miss you," I sigh. "I hope you can move over here."

Edward smiles shyly, presumably glad to hear some actual emotion from me, rather than the weirdness I've been throwing at him during the conversation.

"I'm going to do everything I can to make sure it happens, I promise. If it doesn't work I'll just quit my job and come and hide from immigration in your bedroom."

I laugh at the image. If it was up to me, he could stay in my bedroom as long as he wanted.

"That sounds like a good plan to me," I smile. Edward grins back and then yawns. It's the middle of the night for him, and he's working in the morning. "You should probably go to bed."

"Just because you want to go back to sleep," he teases.

I don't think I could sleep now even if I wanted to, but I need to get ready for work anyway.

"I need you well rested if you're going to be visited soon. Especially if you're going to be hiding out in my bedroom."

"Oh well, in that case I'll make sure I get plenty of sleep." His smile is almost permanent now, and I fucking love it.

"Good."

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yeah." I grin at the thought. "Sleep well."

The call clicks off, and I close my laptop down. I'm so fucking glad that telling his sister went well for Edward, and I'm even gladder that he's coming over soon. I'm not so happy there wasn't even a hint at Skype sex, considering we were both near our beds, but I guess the conversation we had was more important.

Once I'm showered, I grab my phone off my bed before I go and eat. It's flashing with a few messages, and I groan, hoping that it's not Tanya with more work for me – I've already got a full day.

It's not. One email is from Edward, a forwarded flight confirmation for next Saturday. I have another email from him, too.

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Edward Masen**_

_If the deal isn't completed by then, I don't think there will be much else I can do. I miss you too much to fuck around with this, anyway. Two months feels like forever._

_I'll see you in ten days. Make sure you are well rested._

_._

The last email is from Tanya.

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Tanya Denali**_

_Your boyfriend has booked you leave for 24__th__ October – 1__st__ November. I'm assuming you are okay with that? It's written in, and I'll pass on your jobs to other people. _

_He's told me where he's taking you, although I'm not allowed to tell you, and – speaking as a friend and not your boss – you are the luckiest bastard I know._

_._


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. I've been messing around with this chapter this morning, though, so if there's any mistakes - they're mine.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars **_

_Pickup at LHR 23:00, Saturday 23__rd__ October. Meet at arrivals. Name "Masen." Drop off at 45 Park Lane._

_._

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Edward Masen**_

_Pack a bag; you're staying at the hotel with me until Monday. Then we're going away. We can stop off and pack you a suitcase on Monday morning. You have got a passport, right?_

_._

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Tanya Denali**_

_Have a good week off. Take lots of photos. I'm still horribly jealous. Ask Edward if he has any rich, hot friends for me._

_._

Heathrow is strange at night. It never really sleeps, but there is a definite air of calmness, which doesn't ever occur during the day. Normally, I much prefer to be here at night, there is far less chance of being jostled, and I feel a lot calmer.

Tonight, however, is a different story.

Edward's arrival has got me on edge, not necessarily in a bad way, but enough to make a usually stress-free airport run a little more loaded. It's been two months since I last saw him, and so much has happened. Add that on to this mystery trip that Tanya won't fucking shut up about, and I feel like I'm a little out of control. I'm praying that while Edward's here, I can get a handle on any OCD exacerbations before they really start, but right now it seems like an ambitious task. I've cleaned like a fucking maniac all week.

I wish I could just chill out.

Coffee probably isn't a good plan at this time of night, but I don't like deviating from my routine too much; I buy us a hot chocolate each instead. It's pretty chilly tonight, so I'm sure he'll be glad of the warmth of his drink, if nothing else.

I pull at my tie as I look up towards the arrivals screen. Edward's flight information is showing that he should be at baggage claim now, so I head over to the gate. I've been pacing the arrivals hall for the last half hour, unwilling to sit on any of the seats here, and I'm fairly sure the airport security guards have got their eyes on me for looking suspicious. At least if I'm by the arrivals gate, it's a little more obvious that I'm waiting for someone.

If the two polystyrene cups and single red rose I'm holding aren't enough of a clue.

I deliberated about the flower; I wasn't sure if it was a bit too much. Once the idea was in my head, however, it wouldn't leave, and I stopped at a florist after my last drop off this afternoon. I'm not entirely sure what we're going to do with it, although I'm sure Edward's hotel will be able to provide a vase for it. I've completely over thought the gesture – as usual – and I've gone to throw the thing away at least six times since I bought it.

Somehow, the rose has survived intact, and as long as I can make it through the next ten minutes without crushing it, the idea will have been a success.

There aren't that many people waiting at the airport, another reason night journeys are much more relaxing for me. People are less keen to see their long-lost relatives when it's the middle of the night.

I glance around, playing my usual game of trying to figure out who people are waiting for. Thanks to Edward, though, my immediate thought is that everyone is a swinger, and it's a really difficult thing to get out of your head once it's there. I give up, and focus on the translucent screen, trying to make out Edward's form before he appears in the hall.

He takes fucking forever to get out. I don't know why I'm surprised; he has bags for two weeks with him, and no Emmett to help – he's probably wrestling with the luggage carousel.

Finally, the doors slide open and I get a glimpse of him. He's got a luggage trolley with a wonky wheel, and is clearly completely fed up with it. His hair is all over the place, and he looks utterly exhausted. His eyes meet mine just before the doors close, and a smile takes over his face. I move around to a better position so that I can take the trolley from him as soon as he emerges, and hide the rose behind my back. I didn't plan to make it a big thing, but time isn't on my side, and Edward is closing in on me before I can change my mind.

"Fucking thing," he grumbles, sliding the trolley off to the side of us. He takes one of the cups from me, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my lips.

"It's not coffee," I warn him.

"What is it?" he frowns. I love that a change in routine is as unnerving to him as it is to me.

"Hot chocolate."

He grins, and takes a swig, sighing in pleasure as he does.

"Thank you," he whispers with a small smile, his free hand cupping my face.

"You're welcome." I'm pleased he's happy, and even more pleased he's here. I pull my hand from behind my back, and offer him the flower. "I, uh, got you this, too."

His smile widens as he takes it from me. "Do you still have to be professional?" he asks, spinning the rose slowly in his hand. "Because I really want to kiss the shit out of you right now."

I glance around before answering with a grin. "I probably do here. But the car park's pretty dark."

"Lead on!" he laughs, wrestling with the trolley once more. I take it from him as we walk out, and his hand comes to rest on my lower back. I can't bring myself to stop him, anymore than I can imagine Tanya has spies out at this time of night.

Edward helps me move his bags into the car, arranging them around mine, and the minute I get back from returning the trolley, he pushes me up against the side of my car. A fleeting thought runs through my brain – I'm glad I had the car washed this evening – but it's soon pushed out as Edward's lips meet mine.

"I've fucking missed you," he murmurs as I break our kiss to tease at his neck. I laugh softly, my hands running through his hair as his slip underneath my jacket.

"I've missed you, too," I admit. Reluctantly, I push him back from me. "Come on, let's go to the hotel."

"Is the thought of our clothes sitting in our bags bothering you?" he teases.

I roll my eyes and push him around to his side of the car. It wasn't bothering me until he mentioned it.

Edward automatically sits in the front with me, and I can't bring myself to make him move to the back. It's practically midnight, and I'm almost on leave now anyway. Tanya can fucking shove it.

The drive to the hotel isn't too bad, another bonus of doing jobs at this time of night. Most road users are taxis, and they are in just as much of a rush as I am. Edward's hand is teasing at my thigh the entire journey, his rose lying in his lap while he sips at his hot chocolate.

Once his drink is finished, he places it in the cup holder – much to my satisfaction – and picks up his flower again.

"I didn't buy you anything," he apologises.

We're stuck at a red light, so I reach over and squeeze his thigh. "It's okay. It was a snap decision. I wasn't doing it because I wanted anything in return." I decide not to tell him how much I deliberated about giving it to him. "Anyway, you're taking me on holiday; I think I owe you a few flowers for that one." Despite all my protests, Edward wouldn't accept any money from me to pay for the trip. And he still won't tell me where we're going.

His hand comes to rest over mine on his thigh, and he shifts them slightly higher. "How long until we reach the hotel?"

I smile. "Not too long."

"And we'll have to unpack when we get there?"

"Yeah. Unless you can be quick," I laugh.

"It's been two months since I last saw you; I don't think speed will be a problem." I can hear the smile in his voice as I turn my attention now back to the road, and I'm glad he's still okay about my issues. I keep thinking one day he'll be completely fed up with them – they're not something I can get rid of, sadly.

"How about we shower together first, to take the edge off?" he suggests. "Then we can unpack, naked."

I consider this for a minute, and find myself agreeing. It seems like a good compromise, and I'm never going to turn down a shower – especially one with Edward.

My foot presses down on the accelerator. "Okay."

~-DTD-~

I glance around at my bedroom, trying to decide if I've forgotten anything. Edward has brought two suitcases with him, which are both waiting for us in the car. He brought his carry-on bag up with him though, and I'm not sure why.

Edward refused to let me unpack one of his suitcases when we arrived at the hotel in London, claiming it was full of stuff for our trip. I haven't dared look, but I'm a little concerned that I'm about to spend six days locked in a basement at his mercy.

"Where are we going?" I ask as I fold some clothes into my suitcase. Edward has vetoed anything designed for warm climates, and yet insisted I bring swim shorts. If it's cold, I'm not going to be getting in any pools. I hold everything up for him before I pack it, and he nods or shakes his head, a smug grin on his face the entire time.

"You'll find out the minute we get to the airport," he points out, as he rummages through his own bag. "Can't you just be patient?"

I thought he might have realised that patience isn't one of my strongest characteristics. I've begged him for the last two days to tell me where we're going, I've offered blow jobs, massages, and anything else I can think of, but he wouldn't budge. It's fucking annoying.

In all honesty, it's a little cute, too. He's so excited for our trip. I am too, although I'd be more excited if I knew where we were going.

"I guess so," I grumble. "I can't believe you weren't even swayed by sex, though."

"You'd give it up whether I told you or not," he laughs, throwing me a pair of gloves from his bag.

I try to look offended, but he's completely right. I did.

"Keep those in your carry on," he nods at the gloves. "And these." A hat and scarf hit me in the chest in quick succession. Where the fuck are we going?

I put them in my bag, and glance back at him. "Have I got everything now?"

"Yeah, and anything you don't have, I've got for you. Let's go."

I double-check that everything is turned off in my apartment, and we head back to my car. We deliberated on whether or not I should drive to the airport, but paying for long-term parking is a small price to pay for the luxury of being able to get into your own car when you get home.

Edward grabs my hand as we walk through the airport doors. "Is it weird that my heart kind of felt like I was leaving again? I fucking hate walking into this airport."

It feels different for me: I'm here a lot. I'm not in my work clothes anyway, and, right now, I'm too busy wondering where we're going to be sidetracked by bad memories.

Nevertheless, I squeeze his hand, happy that, for once, we can have this contact while we're here.

"Do I get to find out where we're going yet?"

"You're worse than a child, you know that?"

I grin, but don't reply, too busy scanning the check-in screens that we're heading towards. They're all British Airways flights, so they're for all over the fucking place.

Berlin.

Reykjavik.

Madrid.

New York.

Chicago.

My heart lurches. I'm not sure I'm ready to meet the family, not without warning, anyway.

Edward guides us past the Chicago check-in desk, though, seemingly oblivious to it, and my heart finally stutters back into a normal rhythm. I might have had to kill him if he'd sprung that on me.

Finally, he turns us towards a desk. It's a general first-class one, of course, so I wait impatiently for someone to clue me in.

Edward hands our tickets over while I heft the first of his two suitcases onto the conveyer belt. You'd think for first class passengers there would be someone to do this shit for them.

"And you're flying to Reykjavik today, sir?" the clerk enquires.

Edward shoots a quick look at me before confirming that we are.

"Iceland?" I stupidly ask. I know exactly where Reykjavik is. No fucking wonder I don't need sun cream.

"Yeah, I'll explain more later. Is it okay, though?"

I nod, and we continue through the check in. I can't imagine what we can do in Iceland; I don't know anything about it, apart from that it has volcanoes that disrupt everyone's travel plans.

Maybe we'll get stuck there. I can't speak Icelandic, but I wouldn't put it past Edward to be fucking fluent. There are always online courses, anyway. I guess we could cope.

We fly through security and before I know it, I'm stepping into an executive lounge and trying to scoop my jaw off the floor. Edward guides me to some comfy looking chairs in a quieter corner, and kisses me gently.

"You're so fucking cute."

"I'm used to battling it out with the poor people," I laugh. "This is all a bit different."

He smiles. "Well, help yourself to any food in here, it's all free. We've got a few hours to kill, and even first class food isn't great. It's worth stocking up here."

I nod, and we go to pour ourselves some coffee and get some fruit.

"So, Iceland?" I ask when we're settled back in our seats.

"Yeah," he grins. "I thought we could see the northern lights. I know you like taking photos, and I can't think of many things more spectacular to capture. And during the day we can go dog sledding or something. I haven't planned much out; I wanted to choose what we did together seeing as I've dictated the place."

I sip my coffee while he speaks, trying to wrap my head around where we're going.

"We're staying in a four star hotel," he continues. "It's got hot tubs, and a bunch of other stuff, but if you're anything like me, your brain gets stuck on hot tub."

I laugh because he's right; I don't think I'll be getting the image of us in a hot tub out of my head any time soon.

I put my coffee cup down and curl my hand around the back of Edward's neck. His eyes are shining with excitement, his smile is completely contagious, and he looks utterly charming. I press my lips to his, only a small measure of what I really want to do, but I'm sure that as accommodating as they are in here, they wouldn't appreciate me stripping him down.

"Thank you," I whisper, leaning my forehead against his. "It all sounds amazing. Much better than anything I was thinking of."

"What did you think I had planned?" His thumb is slowly stroking along my jaw line, and it's not making concentrating on this conversation any easier.

"Oh I don't know, really. Something to do with basements and chains."

He raises an eyebrow at me, and I laugh. "I don't know. You wouldn't let me see in that suitcase and I couldn't think what sort of stuff you'd have in there. I guess my thoughts ran away from me."

"No shit!" He shakes his head at me, clearly amused at my admission. "The suitcase has got proper winter shoes and jackets in. Things that might have given it away."

That makes a lot more sense.

A slight blush takes over his cheeks, and I try to figure out what's caused that reaction.

I don't have to wait too long for him to speak, though.

"There's a camera in there, too. For you, I mean. The travel agent said you needed a decent camera out there, and I wasn't sure how good yours was. I didn't want you to drop it in the snow and be left with nothing, and they said you needed a tripod really anyway..."

I shut his rambling up with a kiss.

"Thank you. Again. I'm not sure how I'm going to pay you back for all this."

"Easy," he nods. "Nudity and blowjobs."

~-DTD-~

"Are you sure we're not going to be murdered?" I ask Edward as I unpack our clothes. The hotel is in the middle of nowhere, and it looks like the setting for a fucking horror movie.

"It's not down on my itinerary, no. I'm sure we'll be fine." He's busy checking out what channels we can get on the enormous flat-screen TV that's opposite a very comfy-looking bed. He's booked us into a suite here, informing me that he chose it based on the fact it looked the least cluttered out of all the suites. I dread to see the other ones if that's the case. There's stuff fucking everywhere. There's also a huge bed, a couch big enough for two to lie down, and inviting looking Jacuzzi-bath, and a to-die-for view from our balcony. I really can't complain.

"I'm giving you to the axe-murderer, should he appear," I inform him. "You go to the gym; you have more chance of beating him than I do."

Edward tears his eyes away from the screen to frown at me. "Maybe I'll hand you over first. He can kidnap you for a ransom from me."

"Would you pay it?"

"Eh, maybe" he shrugs, and I gently throw a guidebook at him.

He stands up and walks over to me, wrapping his arms around me while his head nuzzles at my neck. "I wouldn't even let him take you. Don't worry; I'm fairly sure we're safe here. This hotel is pretty well equipped; they've probably got an anti- axe-murderer system in place."

"Every good hotel should have one," I agree.

"How's unpacking going?" he asks. He's been ridiculously patient while I sort everything out. "We need to go and eat soon."

"I'm almost done. Have we got time for a shower?"

"When you say shower..." he trails off.

"I mean a getting clean shower, not a getting dirty shower," I confirm.

"We have time for that, yeah. I think if we try anything else we'll miss the food, though, and I'm fucking starving. Getting dirty with you will just have to wait." He sighs dramatically, and I laugh at his attitude.

"We spent the last two days in bed together; I think recuperation is in order." Seriously, I think he fucked my leg muscles into jelly. It was amazing, but I need a day off.

He nods, kissing my cheek softly before pulling away. "I'll grab a shower now, then, while you finish off. Is that okay? I feel like I've left you to do all the work."

"I'd only redo everything you did, anyway," I admit. "It's a holiday, you relax."

Edward darts off to get ready while I unpack the last of our things. We're here until Saturday, but there seems to be enough clothes to last us a lot longer; apparently, we're going to be layering up while we're here. I'm not sure I like that idea.

When we're both finally ready, we wander down to the restaurant. It's beautifully laid out, and is surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows – I'm betting the view is fantastic when it's light enough to see outside.

I pick my menu up, pleased to see that it is in both Icelandic and English. However, when I see some of the dishes, I feel the need to check the translation is correct.

"There's puffin and reindeer on here," I whisper to Edward, slightly horrified. "Imagine eating Rudolph. Seth would kill me."

Edward grins at me. "I think Rudolph lives in Lapland, so you should be safe."

"I'll pass, just in case. I wouldn't want to inadvertently ruin Christmas forever just for the sake of a new experience. I'll have the lamb."

Edward chooses salmon – clearly, neither of us are feeling very adventurous.

We decide that we'll stay up tonight to try to catch the northern lights. The hotel offers a wake up service, but I need to test out the camera that Edward bought, anyway. I'd rather not be trying to snap a picture while I fumble with the instructions at the same time.

Edward orders us a warm chocolate cake to share for dessert. For ten minutes, we become one of those couples that I usually absolutely hate. We feed each other bites of cake, fruit, and ice cream, through giggles and blushes.

Our teasing mood continues back in our room, where I decide that I have recuperated for more than long enough.

Once we've thoroughly tested how sturdy the bed is, we realise it's time to go out and wait for the lights. Edward has brought all kinds of gear with him, and by the time we're ready to leave the room, I look like the Michelin Man. My arms rest at a forty-five degree angle to my torso and my hearing is completely dulled by the headgear I'm wearing. Edward zips my jacket up for me, and leans towards me to rub his nose against mine.

"You look adorable," he laughs.

I roll my eyes. "Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." He's just a bundled up as I am, but he manages to look like a rugged Arctic explorer with it, whilst I look like a fat man made of tyres.

We head outside with the camera and its equipment, and two thermoses full of hot chocolate. I'm not sure my arms will bend to reach my mouth, but I'll give it a good try.

A hotel worker kindly talks me through the best settings on the camera to use, and I scribble them all down, my cold hands making my handwriting all but unreadable. Having them written down makes me feel better though – I wouldn't want to fuck up the photo of a lifetime.

We wait for a few hours, sneaking back into the hotel in turns, needing to warm up. The lights don't show, and by two a.m., both of us are feeling the effects of our ridiculously long day.

I turn the camera onto us, pull our jacket hoods down, and snap a quick picture, needing something to prove we sat the night out, despite not seeing the lights. I have a quick look at the picture to make sure the new settings haven't messed up being able to take photos of people. Our noses and cheeks are red from the low temperatures, despite all our protective gear, both of us have got completely wild hair – we look fucking ridiculous. I laugh before showing it to Edward.

"Wow, don't we look cute," he smiles, as he replaces his hat, and then puts mine on for me, too. It's too cold to last for long without one.

"That's one word for it." I grumble, but I have a feeling this will end up being one of my favourite photos of us. We both have jobs where image matters so much; it's nice to have someone that I can relax with, and not have to worry.

~-DTD-~

I flop down on the bed, completely exhausted. We've spent all day outdoors on a Jeep tour to a national park. Edward tried – and failed – to get me to ride a horse while we were there. We hiked around instead, which was probably no easier on my poor legs, but at least I didn't have to rely on something with its own brain to get me around. The national park was beautiful, though; I got some great photographs of the geysers and a fucking stunning waterfall.

It's our second full day here, we spent yesterday relaxing – our one trip out was a helicopter ride over a volcano. Nothing like the exertion of today.

"Come on," Edward grabs my hand and hauls me back up. He is inexplicably still full of energy. Maybe I should start going to the gym, after all. "Put your swim shorts on, and let's go relax in the hot tub outside."

The hot tubs are geothermal, and we haven't had a chance to try out the one on our balcony yet – something that we're both keen to rectify. However, every muscle in my body is aching, and even the thought of the hot tub isn't enough to make me willing to move.

"Can't we just lie in bed instead?" I ask.

"No. We can lie in bed at home." I try not to react too strongly to his referral to London as 'home.' Edward doesn't seem to notice, though. "We're only here for a few days. I'll throw you in fully clothed if you're not quick," he warns, walking out to uncover the tub and turn it on.

By the time he comes back in to change, I am up and undressing, albeit slowly. Once we're both ready, we dash outside. Even with the balcony heaters on, it's fucking freezing outside, and I playfully shove him out of the way so I can reach the warm water first. He jumps in next to me, splashing me with water as he does.

I frown at him, and he grins unapologetically while I wipe the water off my face. When I've dried off enough, he throws his arm over my shoulders.

"What do you want to do tonight? Stay up, or use the wake up service?"

I'm desperately in need of sleep, but the thought of rushing round in the middle of the night, pulling on clothes, and running outside is unappealing.

"I think we should stay awake," I decide. "If that's okay with you?"

Edward nods, tracing circles on my shoulder with his fingertips. "That's okay. We can sleep in tomorrow morning. I can't imagine you'll feel much like doing much anyway, given the amount of fuss you made about even coming out here. You'll be even sorer tomorrow."

I can't help the grin that forms at his words, even though he meant them innocently. "Is that a promise?"

There's a beat while Edward tries to understand my words, and then his grin matches mine. "Of course."

We sit under the stars for a while, the water keeping us warm enough to stand the low temperatures, and Edward's teasing touches and gentle kisses make me unwilling to move anyway. While I settle into his side, we talk about our day. Edward is still disappointed that I didn't get on a horse – he seems to have decided that cowboys are sexy. There would be nothing sexy about me riding a horse, but he won't believe me.

When it gets too cold, we run back inside, warming up together in a steaming hot shower. We have a quick meal together – once again sticking to food we recognised – before we bundle up ready to spend another few hours outdoors.

Even though we look completely ridiculous, I have to admit that Edward's suitcase full of goodies has been a lifesaver throughout this trip. I've got a feeling everything is high-end gear, and it has paid off; I'll be glad to return to England free of frostbite.

We set up camp in some chairs that the hotel provides for us, and I get my camera onto the right settings, before we sit back and wait. I'm so tired that I'm not really holding up my end of the conversation, and it's not long before Edward notices.

"You can nap, if you want? I'll wake you up if anything happens."

I shake my head and rub my eyes, the scratchy material of my gloves abrasive against my skin, and helping to wake me up a little. I grab one of our thermos flasks, and pour us both a drink, and as I do, a hotel worker comes running out.

"The cloud cover is heavy, but when it breaks, you need to have your camera ready," he warns.

I nod, finishing my drink quickly, burning my mouth as I do, before checking the settings are still right. Edward has got my digital camera, and he pulls that out, fiddling with it for a minute, before coming to stand next to me.

"Hey," he says, drawing my attention away from the sky. His gloved hand rests on the side of my head, his thumb trailing across my cheek. The touch is less unpleasant from him despite the coarse material, and I lean into his hand as he draws in a deep breath. A smile overtakes his face as I look into his eyes, and he finally speaks. "I love you."

My heart stutters in my chest. His declaration, while not entirely unexpected, has surprised me. Before I can reply, though, there are shouts from around us, and Edward points up to the sky.

"Get your photos," he laughs. "We can continue this conversation later."

I nod, still slightly overwhelmed by everything that's going on, but don't let him go without a kiss. I'm more than sure he knows how I feel, but the craziness of what's happening isn't the right moment to say it for the first time, so I turn my attention to the sky, and gasp. The cloud cover has broken to reveal a track of bright green across the black backdrop, and it's absolutely stunning. I smile at Edward, and see his expression reflecting mine, before I turn to the camera and start taking photographs.

The excitement in the air around us is almost palpable as more and more people emerge from the hotel. Edward and I are in our own bubble, though, and spend the next hour or two completely ignoring everything but each other and the sky.

We take it in turns to take pictures, each of us having different ideas about how to best capture the effects. When Edward's hands aren't on a camera, they're on me – holding my waist, or wrapped around me. He doesn't seem to want to let me go, and I feel the same way. While I haven't returned his words yet, I think he knows how I feel. I need to tell him soon, but here – surrounded by people, and distracted by the phenomenon above us – doesn't feel like the right time. He seems content enough with what has happened, but I feel bad that he opened himself up like that, and I haven't had the chance to return the sentiment.

Eventually, the turquoise tint that the sky has developed begins to disappear, and the return of the dark night drives people back indoors. We stay out for a little longer, not wanting the night to end.

I'm huddled over the camera when arms wrap around my waist tightly. I twist round in the embrace and see Edward smiling at me.

"Hi," I whisper.

Edward's smile widens, his eyes crinkling. "Why are you whispering?"

"I don't know," I laugh. "It's so quiet out here, it feels like I should."

"You know what else you should do?"

I shake my head.

"You should carry on the conversation we were having before we were so rudely interrupted by the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"The second?" I question, unashamedly fishing for compliments.

He nods, a teasing grin taking over his face. "The Cubs won back to back division titles a couple of years back. That was pretty beautiful, too."

I groan, unable to keep the smile off my face.

"So, the conversation..." he prompts.

"I think the conversation was done," I tease. "You said what you needed to say. Maybe you should go and see if your favourite baseball team will keep you warm at night."

I playfully try to wriggle out of his grip, and he holds me tighter.

"Carlisle, you realise when people ask us how you first told me you loved me, we're going to have to tell them that I wouldn't let you go until you did. I feel like your basement fantasy is almost coming true."

"It wasn't a fantasy," I protest. "It was a fear."

"Stop changing the subject," he whines, and I laugh at the look on his face. He really hates not getting his own way.

"Tell me again." He raises an eyebrow and I nod. "We can make this the story we tell people."

He pulls me so that our bodies are as connected as they can be, our freezing noses touching as he looks into my eyes. "I love you."

I smile, unwilling to tease and hide the truth any longer. "I love you, too."

* * *

**AN#2: Life is still crazy - the next update will be around March 24th. **

**ETA: DTD has been nominated for an Engergize WIP award! Thank you to whoever nominated me! Voting runs from March 13th - March 20th :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
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**Thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me. Any mistakes are mine.  
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******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
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* * *

I slide into the booth, passing Tanya and Garrett their drinks before glancing at their inquisitive faces. "Why do I feel like this is an interrogation?"

"Because it is. Right, Garrett?"

My best friend's eyes widen. "I was told I would get free beer, that's why I'm here."

I frown. "Why am I paying for the drinks, when I'm the one who's being interrogated?"

Tanya shakes her head at Garrett before turning back to me, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Something happened while you were away, and you're not telling us about it."

"So you thought you'd ply me with alcohol?"

"Exactly." She sips her drink, her eyes boring into me over the rim of her glass. "Just like any good friends would."

I sigh. I've managed to avoid all this for the last week or so, since Edward left. I should have expected that I wouldn't get away with it forever.

"What is it you want to know?"

"Everything!" Tanya exclaims. "He took you to see the northern lights, and you came back glowing brighter than they do. If it wasn't physically impossible, I'd be worried you were pregnant."

Garrett snorts at her description of my mood. He's clearly not overly interested in the details of my trip. We've seen each other a couple of times since I got back, and he only checked that I had fun, before launching into stories about the assholes he had to deal with at work, and how annoyed he was that I wasn't around to grab a beer with him.

"Yeah," I agree. "There's no need to worry about babies, Tanya."

"So what's got you so..." she waves her hand around as she tries to find the right word. I'm not about to help her out. "Shiny?"

"Shiny?" I laugh.

"Shiny."

I shake my head, lifting my drink to my lips, and I hear Garrett humming across the table. Assuming he's just bored with the conversation, I try to figure out where on earth to start explaining the holiday to them.

Just when I've finally decided what to say, Garrett breaks out into song. He's singing 'Shine on You Crazy Diamond,' by Pink Floyd, and Tanya groans in response.

"Really, Garrett?"

He smiles smugly at her, and carries on with his rendition, unperturbed.

Shaking her head, Tanya turns away from him and towards me, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Edward told me he loved me."

Garrett's song stops abruptly, while Tanya squeals. She pokes me in the arm repeatedly, and I have no idea why she's doing it. Fucking women.

"Did you say it back?" she squeaks.

"Of course I did. I love him." I grab her hand. "Stop fucking poking me, it hurts."

"Is that what you said to Edward?" Garrett laughs.

I glare at him, but say nothing.

"How did he do it?" Tanya is still ridiculously excited by my news.

"We were outside one night, the lights appeared, and he said it."

She groans, turning away from me with a huff. "Your penchant for detail is why I love you so much, Carlisle."

"Okay, we were outside one night, the lights appeared, he said it, I said it back, then we went inside and he fucked the flashbulb memory right out of my brain. Sorry."

Garrett nods appreciatively at my response, while Tanya downs the rest of her ridiculously-small-for-the-amount-it-cost-me drink and stands up to get another, clearly frustrated with my answers. I'm actually more than happy to talk about it; I just like annoying her.

When Tanya slips back into the seat next to me, she hasn't calmed down much.

"So what else happened while you were away, then? Apart from you becoming more of a dickhead than usual, of course."

"He's always been this bad," Garrett chimes in. "I think a couple of weeks away from him has distorted your memories." He tilts his glass to me with a cheeky grin, and I shake my head. He's lucky I love him.

"How's your relationship with Kate going, Gar? Have you told her you love her yet?" I ask. I don't think Tanya knows how Garrett feels about her friend, and I'm not above throwing my best mate under a bus to get a break.

Tanya's jaw drops as she looks at him accusingly. "We're going to discuss this. You've been holding out on me." Her words are almost growled out, and I sit back in my seat, confident that the heat is finally off me. My luck doesn't hold out though. "It can wait until business hours, though. I'm sure you'll be glad of the break from all the hard work you do."

I snort. Garrett is content to cruise along doing the minimum amount of work he can get away with. He has no real ambitions to climb the career ladder at the bank and, as such, has perfected the art of making personal calls sound like they are business-related. It's a real skill.

Tanya turns back to me, and I groan, knowing I'm not off the hook. "Well? What else happened? You were there for ages; you must have done something other than exchange declarations of love."

I finally reply to her, knowing my answer will piss her off, and not really caring. "We saw some sights, took a bunch of photos, spent a lot of time in a hot tub, ate some weird food, had a whole lot of sex, and then came back again."

Tanya groans, throwing her head back dramatically. Before she can bitch at me again, though, Garrett jumps in.

"There's not a chance in hell you ate weird food." He emphasises his statement by leaning over the table and poking me square in the chest.

Why is everyone feeling so violent towards me tonight?

I rub the spot, and frown at him. "Okay, Edward ate weird food. I stuck to the basics."

He winks at me over his drink. He really does know me far too well.

"Okay." Tanya is clearly undeterred by my crappy answers, and tries once more. "How about the week you had together here? I know you were both working, but how did it go?"

I smile, unable to stop the flood of memories that hit me from being reflected in my expression. "It was good. I mean, we didn't see each other much, but it was nice to have him there at the end of the day. It felt right."

Tanya makes a noise that she normally reserves for kittens and small babies, and grabs hold of my arm. "That's so sweet! So when's he moving over?"

I pull my arm back from underneath her hand – her manicured nails are digging into my skin.

"We don't know yet. Hopefully soon, but it'll take a lot of planning I think." I look away from Tanya's gaze. Thinking about Edward moving to England brings me joy and fear in equal measure.

"Hey," she grabs my arm again. "It'll all work out, you know."

I nod, taking a sip of my beer. Garrett smiles reassuringly at me from across the table. I must look more freaked out than I realise.

"I know. And I can't wait for it to happen, it's just really big, you know."

Garrett opens his mouth to speak, but halts when both Tanya and I glare at him. He shakes his head. "You guys never appreciate my humour."

~-DTD-~

_**To: Carlisle Cullen**_

_**From: Platinum Cars**_

_Pickup at LHR 11:00, Sunday 12__th__ December. Name "Whitlock." Drop off at 45 Park Lane._

.

The name on the email seems familiar to me, although I can't quite place it. I shrug it off, assuming I'm just having conflicted feelings because I'm about to drive the same route I take Edward every time he's here.

As soon as I see the client, though, I realise my gut instinct was right. I've driven this guy before, and unless I'm completely mistaken, he's Edward's brother-in-law.

I tilt my head at him as he walks towards me with his bags, and he smiles sheepishly in response. I'm definitely right.

He reaches me, and sticks out a hand towards me. "I'm Jasper Whitlock, Edward's brother-in-law, but I think you might have already figured that out."

I shake his hand, trying not to cringe at doing so. Touching strangers who have spent the last eight hours in a tin can of germs is unappealing to me, but I need to make a good impression on this guy.

"Yeah, I only realised when I saw you, though. The name rang a bell, but I couldn't quite figure it out until you walked through the doors."

"I do have an unforgettable face," he laughs.

I take his bags, and we set off for the car. He decides to sit up front with me, and I don't really have any reason to tell him not to, so we set off on our journey while I try not to think about all the ridiculous parallels with my times with Edward.

Jasper tells me a little about himself as I drive. I already knew he's from Texas originally, but his accent would have completely given it away even if I hadn't. I briefly wonder if he rides a horse, and if that's where Edward's cowboy fantasy has come from. Jasper has a slightly rugged look that even a sharp business suit can't offset. Then I realise that they're basically brothers, and it would be a little creepy if Edward was thinking those thoughts about him.

There's a brief pause in his chatter, and I'm trying to think of something to offer to the conversation, but he continues on.

"I offered to do some groundwork for Edward to move over here. That's why I'm in London at the moment. Well, that, and my wife has given me a huge shopping list of things that apparently can only be found in England."

I smile. I never hear huge amounts about Edward's family, but from what I know, I can deduce that Alice won't be too happy that Jasper is here without her – both for the shopping, and because she's desperate to meet me.

"Before I do, though, I want to be sure you're in this for real. I don't want Edward uprooting his life only for it all to fall apart."

His words make me bristle. I've never done anything to make anyone feel I'm in this relationship less than a hundred percent, and I have to take a calming breath before I reply.

"Of course I'm in it for real. I'm completely invested in our relationship. Having a partner living four thousand miles away isn't exactly an easy option."

"Neither is going from that to having someone around twenty-four/seven," he counters.

"I doubt Edward will ever be around twenty-four/seven. He works too much."

"You know what I mean."

I sigh, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel in irritation. "Yes, I do. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. If the relationship falls apart, it won't be for lack of trying."

"Okay." Jasper relaxes in his seat. "Sorry, man, I know that's a bit heavy considering we just met, but we only have this journey, and Alice threatened to cut my balls off if I didn't talk to you about it. So if she ever asks, I was scary and intimidating, okay?"

I nod, completely bemused by the situation.

"For what it's worth," he adds. "From everything that Edward's told us, you seem like a great guy."

"He was probably exaggerating," I laugh.

"Well, maybe. But he's happier than I've ever seen him, and that's got to count for something."

We sit quietly for a few minutes, digesting the conversation we've just had. Jasper is probably just glad his balls are safe, while I'm fairly glad to have passed at least one family test.

"Do you think you'll be able to persuade the company that they need Edward based in England?" My question comes out of nowhere; I hadn't really meant to ask it, but it just popped out. I'm not sure what I'll do if Edward can't move over. If we can't figure out how to end the distance between us, we might have to start figuring out how to end the relationship. We can't go on like this indefinitely.

To my immense relief, Jasper nods. "I'm pretty confident, yeah. They really do need someone out here, and Edward obviously has a good track record. I think it's a fairly safe bet."

I nod and bite the inside of my lip, not entirely sure how to verbally react to this news.

"Well, if I wasn't sure of you guys before this moment, the fact that you just lit up like a Christmas tree would have proved it to me anyway," he laughs. I can feel my cheeks heat up at his words, and I self-consciously bring a hand up to rub at the side that he can see. It only makes him laugh harder. "Don't be embarrassed. It's good to see that you're as bad as Edward about this stuff – he was redder than a tomato at some points in Vegas. Alice will be pleased to hear you're similarly afflicted."

I wonder how I can find out what they said to make Edward blush.

The rest of my journey with Jasper passes uneventfully. He tells me a few funny stories about Edward, and, when we arrive at the hotel he tips me handsomely.

"Thanks, Carlisle," he offers before he heads inside. "And good luck with everything. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon. Don't hesitate to get in touch if you feel like someone in the States needs to give Edward a kicking for anything."

I laugh, shaking his hand. "I will do. Have a good week."

When I'm back in the car, I feel the tension leave my body. That's one member of Edward's family won over.

Four to go.

~-DTD-~

I turn my laptop on when I arrive home that night – a force of habit now, just in case Edward is around – and faster than I'd have ever believed it had time to load up, the Skype call tone is ringing out.

Edward's worried face appears on the screen as soon as I sit on the couch and accept the call, and he launches into his speech before I even have a chance to greet him.

"I'm so sorry." He runs his hands through his hair, clearly stressed out. "I didn't find out he was going over to the U.K. until an hour ago. I would have warned you, I swear."

He's in his apartment, and I find myself feeling pleased that I recognise it. I haven't seen much of it – he's usually in his office when we talk – but I've seen enough to note that he is a fairly organised person. It pleases me more than I'd care to admit.

"It's alright," I reassure him. I have no doubt that Edward would have let me know about his brother-in-law's plans; he's more than aware that I hate being unprepared for things. "Jasper was nice enough to me. At least he didn't bring your sister with him; she sounds like a ball-buster."

"Oh, God," he groans. "I didn't even think of that."

"How did you find out he was here, then?" I'd assumed that Alice had told him, but maybe not.

"Well, that's the good news in all this." A smile spreads across Edward's face, and even though I'm confused, I can't help but smile back. "I got an email from the CEO about Jasper going out there, and the possibility that while he's there, it'll show they need someone to move to England. It was sent to about five people, but the CEO was seeing if anyone would be willing to go, should it be needed."

"Holy shit." Added to Jasper's earlier reassurance, this information builds my confidence that Edward will be able to move out here. I can almost feel the weight lifting off my shoulders.

"So," he continues, leaning back in his chair. "I just need Jas to do his job now, and it all should work out. I've emailed the CEO back already to say that I think it's time I had a new challenge, and that I'd be willing to move."

I can't stop my smile from widening. The tiny picture of me in the corner of the screen shows me how much of a moron I look, but I can't bring myself to care, especially when Edward reflects it back at me.

We chat about how my journey with Jasper went, but I can tell Edward is still distracted, even though my stories are positive.

"What's up?"

He frowns for a second, before scrubbing his hand over his eyes.

"So, hypothetically, say someone had something to tell you. Something that they thought was a good thing, but you might not? And say this person would quite like Skype sex, too. What order would they be best to try it in?"

I laugh, despite him making me a little nervous with his words.

"Well, if I knew about both things in advance, I'm not sure I'd be able to fully concentrate on Skype sex."

Edward groans. "I thought you'd say that. I was hoping I'd be able to soften you up first. Well, not soften. You know what I mean. I can't believe you knew I was talking about you, anyway, with all my efforts to keep it anonymous."

I chuckle at his rambling, but don't stop him.

"Anyway, I've booked tickets for you to come out to Chicago in April. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get over there much – which is stupid seeing as I'll be working on a system for the London branch – so I figured you could come to me."

"April?" That's fucking months away.

"I know it's a long time. I'm sorry. It was the first time that could work for both of us."

"Both of us?"

"Well, yeah. I checked with Tanya, and she said you had a few days booked off but they were probably to look after the kids. I didn't want to fuck up your plans, and I needed to schedule it around the things I have to do here, too. April was the first time we could both make."

I'm stunned into silence. He's put a lot of planning into this, and I'm grateful. But April feels like forever away. At least I'll have plenty of time to prepare.

"I'll try to get out there to see you before then. But it's not guaranteed."

I nod, saddened at the thought of being apart from him for that long. It's already been six weeks, and even that feels like forever. Another three months on top of that is going to be hell.

"Have I ruined my chances at Skype sex now? This is why I wanted to tell you afterwards," he laughs, obviously trying to lighten my mood.

"Take your shirt off and I'll think about it," I bargain. It's off before I've even finished my request.

"So what's your plan for when I come out to visit, then?" I ask, sitting back on the sofa slightly.

He looks disappointed that his bare chest hasn't made me immediately cave to his demands, but I need to be reassured by his plans before I can seriously think about it. His shirtlessness is just a bonus.

"I haven't really thought about it too much," he admits. "I don't want to plan a lot anyway, especially if we won't have seen each other for a while." His blush appears, making his intentions obvious, and it makes me grin at him. He smiles back sheepishly, before adding, "I thought you could meet my family, though."

"All of them?"

"All of them," he confirms. He pauses for a second, tapping his fingers on the keyboard. "I'm thinking about coming out after Christmas. Alice and Jasper will be at my parents' so I'll have their support. As long as it all goes well, I want them to meet you."

I nod, taking a sip of my water to give me a chance to digest the information.

"Don't freak out on me," he warns. "I won't take you to meet them if I don't think it'll go well."

He knows me far too well.

"Okay. What else is there to do in Chicago?"

Edward's eyes light up – presumably pleased that I'm not scared off by the thought of his family. "Plenty. I'll take you to a Cubs game for starters."

"So I can meet my competition?"

"Well, they are very close to my heart," he agrees. "I think you might have them beaten, though."

"From what I've heard, it's not too hard to beat them."

Edward's mouth drops open as I start laughing. When he recovers from his shock, he joins in the laughter.

"Who the hell taught you baseball smack talk?"

"Jasper. He said you deserved it for supporting the Cubs."

He groans. "I should have known. He has terrible taste in baseball teams. I can't believe you did what he asked, though. I think you should take your shirt off in penance."

I roll my eyes but do as he asks, lying it neatly on the couch next to me when I'm done.

"That's better," he smiles. "I feel more equal now."

"I won't tell you to take anything else off, then. I don't want you feeling unequal."

"Well, maybe if we both take our pants off, it'll be okay," he suggests.

Before long, we are both down to our underwear, and Edward has a smug grin on his face. I'm not entirely sure about doing this while I'm sitting on my couch, but I think Edward stressing about my laptop being on my bed might ruin the mood.

"I, uh, just need to grab some stuff. Give me a minute." Edward smiles knowingly, and I dart into my bedroom, grabbing some lube before heading into the bathroom to get a towel.

When I get back, I spot Edward placing a bottle of lube on the table next to him as I throw a blanket down onto the couch. "You were back quickly," I observe as I sit down.

"I didn't have to go anywhere," he explains. I frown and he blushes slightly. "My PC is a desktop. So I keep it here."

"Internet porn?" I laugh, finally understanding.

"Yeah. My boyfriend lives in a different time zone and consistently refuses to have Skype sex with me. Internet porn is all I have left, sometimes." The smile on Edward's face lets me know that he's teasing. I'm glad he's turning to internet porn rather than other people.

"There's some good stuff out there," I agree. He's seen my internet history – he's stolen links from my laptop – and he's got nothing to be embarrassed about.

Edward nods absently; clearly his mind is on something he's seen.

"Do you have a favourite video?" I ask. I wasn't quite sure how to go about Skype sex – it's something I've avoided up until now, managing to persuade Edward into doing it over the phone instead – but I think this line of conversation might be a good way to start.

"One or two," he admits after a pause.

"Oh yeah," I ask, sitting back in my seat. I think I'm going to need to get comfortable. I check that the lube is within reach before turning my attention back to Edward. "What happens in them?"

He blushes slightly, and I grin at the sight. For someone who has been so keen for us to do this, he's really hesitant. I love it. I love that he's like this around me, but he's so confident in his working life. I feel like I get to see a side of him that no one else does.

"Hey, you don't have to be embarrassed about this. It's just me, and I love you," I reassure him. "We don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"No, no. I want to. Trust me." He gestures down to his already slightly tented underwear. "I just don't know where to start. It's different when you can see me," he laughs.

"I know what you mean. It does feel different," I agree.

"One of the guys in the video reminds me of you, that's why I like the first one."

"Oh yeah?" There aren't many people in porn who remind me of Edward, sadly.

"Yeah. I guess he looks kinda like you, but the way he reacts when he's being fucked is just like you."

I can't say I pay that much attention to what I'm doing when I'm in the throes of passion. I'm not entirely sure that I _want_ to know. I do, however, want Edward to keep talking, so reluctantly I ask him to expand.

"You get all grabby. I don't really know what it is, but your hands are constantly on me. They're strong too, you don't do light touches, and I love that. It's something I've never really had before, and it's surprised me that I like it so much. This guy's the same, he's always got a handful of the man fucking him – biceps, ass, anywhere he can reach, really."

During his speech, Edward's hand has dropped down to his boxer briefs, and I can't help but let my eyes follow as his fingers tease his erection.

"Do you want me to stop moving and just talk?" Edward teases, after his admission is met with my silence. "It looks like you can't concentrate on more than one thing at a time."

"Oh, no. Keep doing both," I encourage, my hand mimicking his movements. "So you like me being grabby, then?"

He nods, half lost in what he's doing.

"What else do you like about that guy? Is there anything more that reminds you of me?" I prompt, reaching to pick up the lube.

"I guess the way they are together reminds me of us. Like, they're relaxed about stuff, it's not just fucking – they play around too. I don't know, I guess I just find it easier to watch things that are about the relationship, as well as the sex. Fuck, I sound like a girl."

I can understand what he means, he's not long been aware of his feelings towards men – I can imagine that hardcore porn might be slightly off-putting to him at the moment.

"You don't. I know what you're saying," I reassure him. "So how about the other video, then?"

His blush reappears as his eyes dip away from the screen, and I grin. This one should be good. I pour some lube into my hand, only looking up from what I'm doing when I hear a groan through the laptop's speakers. Edward is looking at me intently, and a surge of confidence passes through me. I pull my underwear down slightly, so he can see everything I'm doing, and raise my eyebrows at him.

"When in Rome, Edward. Or, I guess, when on Skype to London."

He shakes his head slightly at my words, but quickly pulls his boxer briefs off, grabbing his lube when he's done.

"So this video?" I ask, as he pours some out.

His hand drops to his cock, and I find myself glad that he takes a few seconds to start talking, because I'm completely distracted by what he's doing. My eyes close briefly as I start to do the same, but I open them when I hear his voice.

"Well it starts off like they all do, you know, blow jobs and stuff." I roll my eyes at his lack of description, but he's clearly trying to get to a point, so I let it go. "One guy is clearly the top, and just as he goes to start fucking the other guy, the other guy stops him."

I frown, not really understanding where this is going.

"The other guy pulls him back down so they're next to each other, and then starts touching the first guys cock. And while he's doing it, he tells him that he wants to try topping."

My hand falters in its lazy movements, and I'm fairly sure my jaw drops open. Suddenly I realise why Edward was so hesitant to tell me why he liked this video.

"And does he top?"

"Yeah, after he persuades the other guy to bottom."

"And does the guy who's bottoming enjoy it?"

Edward's eyes close briefly, as if he's bringing the images to mind. "Yeah. He really does. I mean, I guess he'd probably done it before, I know the stories aren't exactly truthful, but it was so fucking hot, Carlisle."

"So is that something you'd like to try?" My hand has sped up in its movements, the thoughts of Edward writhing underneath me pushing me to the edge much faster than I'd care to admit.

He groans, his head thrown back, clearly slightly lost in his thoughts, too. "I think so, yeah. I just keep thinking about you over me, and in me. I can't get it out of my head."

I don't think I'll be able to get that image out of my head either. My gaze moves up from his cock to his face when I see his head move.

"Fuck, Carlisle," he moans as I flick my eyes up directly to the camera, so he feels like I'm look straight at him. "I mean, you enjoy it when you bottom, right?"

"Can't you tell?" I laugh slightly breathlessly at his comment.

"Yeah. Exactly. I want to feel that, too. And I know you like to top sometimes."

"Fuck, yeah I do." Especially now. I really, really hope he doesn't back out on what he's saying. We've talked about it before, but only once, and he's never brought it up again. I'm hoping this time, he's fairly more certain.

"Maybe when you come out here, we could try it?"

I don't know how he's still forming sentences at this point. I'm moving my hand furiously, the thought of being inside Edward spurring me on.

"Yes. Fuck. I want that," I manage to grit out, my brain now fully focussed on watching Edward, and keeping my hand moving.

"Good. Fuck, I want you, Carlisle. I wish you were here. I'd let us try it right now."

His words tip me over the edge, and I arch up from the seat as the feeling floods through me. As I slump back down, I refocus my eyes on Edward, who has his head tipped back as he comes. I wipe my hand and torso with the towel before grabbing my bottle of water, my throat completely dry. Edward does something similar while we both get our breath back

"Well," he chuckles eventually, running his hand through his hair. I hope it's clean. "That was revelatory. I wasn't really intending to blurt that one out over Skype."

"You did mean it, though, right?"

I can't tell if he is still flushed from his orgasm, or if it is out of shyness, but either way, he looks fucking adorable right now.

"I meant it."

I smile back at him, before yawning fiercely.

"Have I worn you out?" he teases.

"It looks that way, yeah." I really am exhausted.

"Are you mad about Chicago?"

I can't muster up any emotion apart from satisfaction at the moment, so I shake my head. "I'm not mad, you've given me plenty of notice. Plenty of time for me to freak out."

Edward laughs as I let out another huge yawn. "Okay, I think you need to go to bed. I'll call you tomorrow and we can talk more."

I nod. I don't think I can keep up a coherent conversation any longer. "Goodnight, Edward. I love you."

He smiles a brilliant smile back at me, and I wish I had enough know-how to be able to take a picture of it. "I love you, too, Carlisle. Sleep well, I'm sure you will."

I shut the laptop down, and haul myself into the shower.

Four months to prepare myself for Chicago and to prepare to be thrown head-first into Edward's life for a week or two.

Fuck.

* * *

**AN2: Life has not calmed down. I'm sorry to anyone who I didn't get to your review reply. I feel awful about that. Hopefully I'll get to finish them sometime this week!**

**Next update: 2 weeks.**


	23. Chapter 23

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I cringe as I slip my shoes off and stand in line for the security scanner. I try not to think about how many other feet have walked along this floor, and remind myself that I put on two pairs of socks this morning for this exact reason. Despite my precautions, I keep on the sides of my feet as much as possible. I'm sure I look like an idiot, but it's at the point where I can't bring myself to care anymore; the thought of this trip has turned me into an OCD nightmare.

It's ridiculously early in the morning. I didn't want to leave my car in long-term parking for two weeks, so I made Garrett drive me to Heathrow. Even bribing him with a takeaway the night before and a McDonalds' on the drive didn't stop him complaining about being awake 'before any normal human would be.'

Before we said goodbye, he handed me a travel-sized bottle of anti-bacterial gel and wished me luck for the eight-hour plane ride. He's been witness to my ever-increasing stress levels over the last few weeks, and knew this journey was going to be hell for me.

Once I'm through security, I remove my outer pair of socks and quickly replace my shoes, and head towards the lounge. Edward booked me tickets in first-class and, though I complained about the decision – he doesn't need to spend extra money when he's already paying for the tickets – I find myself quite glad at the prospect of relaxing slightly.

I pick up an orange and a bottle of water when I arrive, and sit down in a comfy chair. I'm fairly sure that it's cleaner in here than it is in the main airport, and I can feel some tension leave my body. There's free Wi-Fi in the lounge, so I take advantage of it and email Edward to let him know that I'm at the airport. It's early enough that he'll still be awake, I think.

My phone rings almost as soon as I get the alert that the email has sent.

"Hey, you got to the airport okay, then? I was worried Garrett wouldn't want to get out of bed or something."

I laugh softly. Edward sounds almost more frazzled than I feel.

"He complained the whole time, but he did it. I would have just taken his car if he refused, and left him a note saying it was at the airport."

Edward chuckles, and the sound soothes me. I sit back in the chair and scrub my hand over my face. Stressing out is exhausting.

"Is the flight due to leave on time? I've got the airport website up, but I guess the information there will be more up to date."

I smile at his actions. I do the same thing when I know he's visiting. "Yeah, it's all going as planned so far."

"Excellent. I'll be at O'Hare waiting for you at lunchtime, then. I don't have plans for us today, by the way. We can just relax at my place. I figured you'd be tired when you arrived."

"I'm hoping to sleep on the flight, but I think a relaxing afternoon is just what the doctor ordered." Tanya has given me a couple of her sleeping tablets in case I need them – she doesn't really use them anymore. I'd rather not take them, but I'm not overly used to plane travel, and definitely not for such a long stint. I might need them to help calm me down.

"I've tried to keep tomorrow pretty light, too. I know how you reacted when we went to Iceland, and that wasn't half as bad as this journey. I'll be surprised if you want to get out of bed the entire time you're here, given that showing," he teases.

"Well, keep up that attitude and we'll see if I want you in that bed with me," I laugh. He's right, though; I am pretty terrible with jet-lag.

"It's my place, you can't get rid of me," he argues.

"You can sleep on the couch. You should be nice to your guests."

"I'm going to be very nice to you." His voice is laced with a promise, and I groan and shift in my chair slightly.

"Stop it," I warn. "I'm in a public place. I don't want to be arrested for indecency now that I'm finally getting to see you again."

"I only said I'd be nice," he protests, but I can hear the amusement behind it. "The innuendo was all yours." He pauses for a second, and when he speaks again, his voice is much more serious. "I've missed you. I was starting to feel like this day was never going to arrive."

"Me too," I admit. Edward managed to come over for a weekend a couple of months ago, but it was a bit of a disaster, he was exhausted from work and, because it was a last-minute trip, I had clients booked in. We managed to spend less than ten hours together in all, most of which we spent sleeping, and – while it was good to have him here – we decided we should probably wait until my trip to Chicago to see each other again.

"Only eleven hours until you're here. Not that I'm counting. Hell, I'll be asleep for most of them, I hope."

"You only want to sleep so that time goes more quickly," I laugh. "Stop pretending you don't care."

"Ah, you figured out my plan. I can't hide anything from you, huh?"

"Not anymore."

"Well, on that note, I'm going to go shower before bed. Someone got me all worked up thinking about being, uh, nice to you."

I roll my eyes. "You mean you got yourself worked up?"

"Hey now, let's not lay the blame on anyone," he bargains.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"What can I say? You bring it out in me."

"Go and shower, you pain. I'll email just before I board."

"Okay. I'll see you at the airport. I'll be the one pacing a hole in the floor."

"See you in eleven hours. I'll be the one trying not to let anyone get anywhere near me."

He snorts. "I love you. Take care."

I wish him a good night, and end the call. Nearly all the tension has left my body, and I draw in a deep breath, trying to enjoy how it feels while it lasts. The last five months have been interminable, but in one conversation, Edward has reminded me that all the long-distance shit is worth it. We're finally ready to see each other again, and I can't fucking wait.

~-DTD-~

I grimace as I walk down the corridor to the arrivals gate. I think I arrived in Chicago at the same time as everyone else in the fucking world, and I can't avoid being jostled. I'm already pushing my luggage trolley with the sleeves of my jacket, worried about whose hands might have been on it before.

Finally, after being bumped into about a thousand fucking times, I catch a glimpse of Edward through the doors. Despite still having jelly-legs from the flight, the sight of him makes me pick up my speed.

I manoeuvre the trolley through the doors, and look up to double-check Edward's location.

He's standing with a huge smile on his face, looking every bit as delicious as the image of him that stars in my fantasies. Except he's wearing more clothes. He's holding a board with my surname on, like the one I have to use at work, and I grin at him. He waves at me, and then flips the board over to reveal the words 'my boyfriend,' and I almost fall over in shock.

I weave my way toward him, desperate to feel him, needing him to invade all of my senses so that I know this is completely real. I reach him, and he seems to know exactly what I want, as he throws the sign onto the trolley and grabs hold of my upper arms, pulling me close to him.

"Hi," he breathes, and I press my lips to his before he can say anything else. His arms move over my shoulders, and I wrap mine around his waist as we immerse ourselves in a kiss which is completely inappropriate for our location.

I can't bring myself to care, though. Edward Masen is kissing me, in Chicago – his territory. I'm no longer simply a part of his life when he's in England; if he wasn't out in Chicago before, he is now.

We finally pull back, but only far enough that I can see his face properly.

"Hi," I grin. "I liked your sign."

"I could tell," he chuckles, moving his hips forward slightly to draw attention to exactly how much we both enjoyed our reunion kiss. "I hope I'll get one similar, next time I'm in England."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Come on, I've got a car waiting for us."

"Oh, wait, let me get some paper out so I can take notes on the company and how they work," I joke. I probably will be paying attention, though, in all honesty.

"Did Tanya give you some spying instructions?" Edward asks with a smile. He takes over pushing the trolley, and I try not to think about his hands on all those germs. I tap my pocket, feeling the gel that Gar gave me. I'll have to make Edward use it before his hands touch me again.

"Not really. But she wondered if we'd be using a car service," I shrug.

"We won't be using it much; I'll drive us most of the time if we're going out of the city. It's just for journeys like this one where I knew I wouldn't want to let go of you."

He's being impossibly sweet today. I wonder if someone has been coaching him.

Once we're in the car, we have to separate slightly, and the only real contact we can have is through our hands. I reach into my pocket, and before I have a chance even to offer, I see that Edward has his own bottle of anti-bacterial gel. I fall in love with him a little more.

I rest my hand on the seat between us, and Edward takes the hint, lacing our fingers together and grinning at me.

He spends the journey pointing out landmarks to me, some I've heard of, others I haven't. I watch the traffic pass us by, and consider emailing Tanya to say that the idea of expanding the business over here terrifies me. It looks completely chaotic to me, although I'm sure it isn't.

I groan, remembering that I haven't let anyone know I arrived safely, and reluctantly pull my hand away from Edward's to send Garrett a message.

By the time that's done, we've pulled up outside what I can only imagine is a skyscraper. He grabs hold of my hand when we're both out of the car, and someone comes out to help with my bags. We walk inside and past a desk, where a man greets Edward.

Once we're past him and standing by a bank of lifts, I frown at Edward. "Why aren't we staying at your apartment?"

"Technically, it's a condo. And we are staying there." Edward looks as confused as I feel.

"I don't even know what a condo is. Why are we in a hotel, then?"

"This isn't a hotel; this is the building I live in."

"You have a reception desk in your building?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck me."

Edward grins at my words, but doesn't say anything else, aware that there are other people around. Apparently, he's not quite as free and easy with his speech when it's in front of people he might have to see again.

We travel up to his apartment in silence, his hand resting lightly on my back. Despite getting some sleep on the flight, my head is so stuffy I feel like I could crash out for weeks. I'm fed up with being propelled to places by machines, I need to stay still for a while, and get some fresh air.

Edward lives fairly high up in the building, and even when we reach his floor, we have to walk along a corridor for a while before he stops.

"This is it," he smiles, as he unlocks the door in front of him.

The concierge – or whoever this person is helping with the bags – leaves my things in Edward's hallway, and darts off after Edward tips him. That's another person he tips without thought; I'm starting to get a fucking complex.

"Can you cope with leaving them there while I show you around, or do you want to head straight to the bedroom?"

I roll my eyes at his blatant innuendo, and agree that I can last while he shows me around.

His apartment, _condo, _is huge. You could fit at least three of my places in here, probably with room to spare. It's gorgeous, though, and I'm insanely jealous of him. For the first time, I find myself truly annoyed with my life choices. I wish I did a job that would enable me to get a work visa here. I can't believe what I'm making him leave behind.

"You're quiet," he observes, as we look out over the view from his window. Lake Michigan looks beautiful in the afternoon light.

"Jet-lag," I shrug, not really wanting to clue him into my mood.

"Do you want to unpack and have a nap? I've got blackout blinds, so the sun won't bother you. We can order takeout tonight, so you don't have to worry about when you wake up," he offers. "I didn't sleep too well last night, either, so I'd join you."

I nod. Unpacking will take me a while, but I could really do with a couple of hours' sleep, just to get my head together.

We walk back into the master bedroom, and he shows me the space he's cleared in his closet for me. I pull him in for a kiss in thanks, and another pang of regret hits my heart. He's giving up so much to be with me.

Edward talks about some things we could do while I'm here as I unpack, and asks my opinion on his plans. I nod along, not really managing to get my head in the game. I really do need that nap.

Eventually, we curl up in bed together, Edward's arms wrapped tightly around me, my leg resting in between his.

"I'm sorry I'm not awake enough for you to show me how nice you can be," I say with a yawn.

"We have two weeks for me to show you that; don't worry about it," he laughs.

I'm wriggling a little, getting completely comfortable in his arms, when something strikes me. "Is your apartment always this tidy?" It's at my standards of cleanliness, which is pretty fucking high. There aren't many people without my neuroses who feel the need to keep anywhere this clean.

"It's a condo, and yeah, it is. I'm neat."

I nod against his chest, his fingers running through my hair rapidly lulling me to sleep.

"I have a cleaner who comes in weekly," he admits after a pause, and I grin into his chest. I knew it. "And I got a full crew in to clean the place properly earlier in the week."

"Why?" If he has a cleaner, it seems a bit of a waste of time.

"I wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible."

Fuck me, he's adorable. I pull my head back a little to press a kiss to his cheek.

"I fucking love you. Thank you."

"No worries. I love you, too. Now go to sleep; I'm tired, but I don't want to be a bad host."

Snuggling back into his chest, I feel myself drifting off almost immediately, completely comfortable for the first time in months.

~-DTD-~

We eat Thai food while we sit on Edward's couch, watching baseball on his huge flat-screen TV. Edward is keen for me to be familiar with the team with which I share his heart. I know some basic details, and find the game fairly easy to pick up, although Edward laughs every time I groan when there is yet another commercial break.

He's booked us tickets for a few days at Wrigley Field, and is teaching me the ins and outs of being a Cubs fan while we eat. The pang hits me again as he enthuses about how close he lives to the stadium. The nap did nothing to alleviate my guilt.

"Okay, what's up?" Edward asks.

I ponder lying, but I don't really see the point. I don't want to ruin the holiday by being upset.

"I guess I didn't realise exactly what you'd lose if you moved to England. You have this whole life here," I cringe as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Of course he has a fucking life here. "I don't know. It was easier when I imagined you passed your time working all the hours you can. This apartment, though – "

"Condo," he interrupts, and I glare at him before continuing.

"It's not just somewhere you rest your head. It's a home. It's more of a home than where I live, for fuck's sake. And you're going to lose it all. I'm pissed off because I can't even _offer_ to be the one to make the move. You've changed your entire life, and are continuing to do so, while I just sit back and... let you."

I slump against the back of the couch, exhausted.

Edward takes my plate from me, placing it on the table, along with his. He glances up at the baseball to check the score before scooting round on the sofa so he's sideways on to the TV and facing me.

He grabs my hand, and gives it a squeeze as I run my other one through my hair shakily.

"Hey, for starters, I wouldn't have offered to move over if I hadn't thought the decision through. I want this, I want you, and this is the way to make it happen." He moves even closer to me, throwing an arm over my shoulder and his legs over mine. "Secondly, I'm not going to give up this place."

I frown at him.

"I don't need to give it up, it's a condo – I own it." Of course he fucking does. "I'll have to come back here to work sometimes anyway, so it makes sense to keep it on."

"How long would you have to be here for?" I'm glad he's found a solution, but the thought of him being here for six months every year is unappealing.

"I don't know. A few months a year?" I let my eyes fall away from his, and he pokes my shoulder. "You can come with me on a tourist visa, you ass. I wasn't going to leave you in London."

"What about my job?"

"I'm sure we can figure something out with Tanya."

"Edward, I need the money from my job. I can't just leave everything for a few months every year. I have an apartment and bills to pay."

"Move in with me in London."

"What?"

"Move in with me. If you're going to get all practical about it, then that makes the most sense. But, really, I couldn't care less about making sense. I only care about the fact that we've spent the last year dealing with a long-distance relationship, and once we're in the same city, I'm not letting you go again. I love you, and I don't want to spend any time away from you that I don't absolutely have to."

I'm completely floored by his offer, and I'm not even sure what to say.

"Sorry, Carlisle. I figured you'd guess that was what I wanted to happen," he shrugs, and then checks himself. "I mean, do you want to do that?"

"Well, yeah. I think so. I want to pay my own way, though."

"You don't have to. But we can split the bills by earnings, if you want. However much of the income you make, you can pay that percentage of the bills. The rent is on me, though. We can choose the place together but I have my... needs. I want somewhere big. I need a study to work from home, and I guess you'll need another extra bedroom for if Jared and Seth stay over."

"Or Garrett," I laugh.

"Doesn't he just sleep in with you?" Edward teases.

"I'm sure he wouldn't decline if you offered," I agree.

"Either way, we need some space. There's no point struggling if we don't have to. I think this is the fairest way to do it."

I probably earn about twenty percent of the amount of money Edward does, but his suggestion seems to be the only way to work it. If he wants a place like this in London, I won't be able to keep up if we spilt everything by half.

"Can I have a few days to think about it?"

"Take as long as you want. Even if you haven't figured it out by the time I move, I can get a place and we can sort it later." His eyes dip away from me for a second, and then he lifts a hand to my cheek, stroking it softly. "I want us to live together, though, Carlisle."

I nod. "I know; I do, too. I just need some time to get it all straight in my head."

"That's okay. I threw a whole load of information at you there. I didn't realise we weren't on the same wavelength. Please don't feel bad about not moving here, though. You have a lot more tying you to London than I do to Chicago. I wouldn't ask you to leave."

"I just feel crap that I can't even offer. It's all on you, and that's not fair."

"I wouldn't ask you to," he reiterates. "You're needed there far more than I'm needed here. I don't know what's going on with Esme, but I do know that you have to help her out a lot. I wouldn't try to change that, not when it's relatively uncomplicated for me to transfer to London."

His words make me pause. I never really think about what I do for Esme – I just do it – but clearly it has registered with Edward.

I sigh. "Her ex-husband was abusive. She and the kids managed to finally escape when Seth was still quite young, but by that point she had no friends left, and he had control of all her money. They lived with me for a while. Her job doesn't pay well, and she has to work all the hours she can. She can't afford childcare really, I help out where I can, so does Garrett, and a couple of mums from school that she's got to know. She doesn't trust many people though."

"Shit." Edward's arm tightens around me. "That's terrible."

"Yeah. She was a classic case – convinced the guy would change. Anyway, he's out of the picture now, and doesn't pay child support. She's on her own, with no savings, and two rapidly growing children."

"Well, that's another reason I wouldn't _want _you to move here. You couldn't just desert her."

"Or Garrett," I laugh.

"Fuck, yeah. He'd kill me. I've got nothing like that here. My family is all okay; they don't need me here all the time. A visit every now and then would work. Logically, it makes far more sense for me to move."

"Do you know you're definitely moving over, yet?"

"No," he grimaces. "Not yet. I submitted the details of the new system at the end of last week, along with a test version. I should hear by the end of the month if they think I need to be in England. I know I'm the only person who said they'd move, though – so if they need someone, it's got to be me. I've got Jasper making some noise about how they'd benefit from me being there. I'm fairly confident."

"How confident are you?"

He leans in, his lips brushing against mine as he talks. "Confident enough that I would call Garrett right now to set up a bank account over there for my wages."

I'm sure there's something in my brain that causes me to be a dick whenever the opportunity presents itself, even when I have a hot man pressing against me with all the promise of five months of build-up behind him. "I'm not used to doing the time conversion this way around, but I'm fairly sure it's the middle of the night in England."

"The sentiment remains; I'm confident." Edward is unfazed by my comment, his lips travelling along my jaw. "Now, are you done eating and learning about baseball for tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Good," he murmurs against my lips. "Bedroom, now. I'll put the leftovers in the fridge, and then join you. Be naked when I get in there."

I swallow nervously, grabbing my bottled water and doing exactly what I'm told. I don't know why I'm feeling a little apprehensive; it's not like we haven't done this before. Maybe it's because it's been so long.

I undress quickly, but leave my boxers on, feeling too vulnerable to be completely naked. By the time I've thrown my laundry into the basket that Edward pointed out to me earlier, he is in the bedroom, his eyes darkening as he looks me up and down.

"Fuck, I've missed you," he groans as he quickly removes his own clothes, his eyes never leaving mine.

I suck in a deep breath as he makes his way over to me. He doesn't stop when he reaches the bed, encouraging me to scoot up to the headboard as he crawls after me.

My hands rest on his back as he holds himself up over me and starts to move, dipping his hips down so that our rapidly-growing erections brush against each other, before moving away again. He teases me like this over and over, never giving me full body contact and, before long, I'm grasping his shoulders and trying to pull him to me.

"Fuck, Edward, c'mon," I moan, frustrated with his movements.

He smiles down at me. "Maybe if you'd have been completely naked like I asked, I'd be a little more generous."

He's hardly even finished the sentence and I'm scrambling to do as he wants, desperate for some real contact between us.

"That's better." He slowly lowers himself onto me, and the noise I make is somewhere between a whine and a groan. It's decidedly unsexy, but I can't bring myself to care as his hips start to roll. We move together for a while, my hands squeezing his ass while his tease at my ribs. His mouth only ever leaves mine to press kisses to my neck, and never for long. We're reconnecting; finally able to take our time, and do all the things we've been talking about for the last few months.

"Carlisle," he whispers against my lips. I hum in response. "I want you to fuck me."

My hands stop their movements, and Edward pulls back, rolling to the side of me and checking my reaction.

"Now?" I sit up and reach over to grab my bottle of water, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

He blushes. "Yeah. Why not?"

"It's just a bit... sudden."

"It's not really." He argues gently, tracing patterns on the bed-sheets between us with his thumb. "I've been preparing for it."

I inhale sharply, choking on my drink, and Edward thumps me on the back as I splutter for breath. "Jesus." I groan, when I can finally breathe. "Warn a guy, would you?"

"Sorry," he laughs.

"Are you sure you want this?"

"I'm sure I want to try," Edward nods. "I mean, you'll stop if I ask you to, right?"

I reach my hand over to place it on top of his, squeezing it gently. "Of course I will."

"Then let's try."

I nod, taking another swig of my water. Edward holds his hand out for the bottle when I'm done, and despite having had his lips against mine, I still automatically hesitate at the thought of sharing it.

He knows what my hesitation is about, of course, and laughs. "If I'm giving you germs, you're getting them anyway."

"Sorry." I hand the bottle over, shaking my head at myself.

Some of the urgency is gone from our movements when I roll myself on top of Edward. I'm so aware that I don't want to push this too quickly; I don't want to scare him off. I _really _want to fuck him.

I grind against Edward, slowly kissing my way down his body. He susses out my plan, and throws the lube down to me as I gently press my lips along his lower stomach. I click it open, knowing he'll tense at the sound, and set it on the floor next to me, concentrating instead on what my mouth is doing.

Once Edward's relaxed a little, I reach off the bed to pick the lube back up again. His eyes are shut, enjoying the sensations I'm providing as I tease his cock with my tongue, and he barely flinches as I start to prepare him. Slow and steady is the key to keeping him relaxed, and wanting more.

That, and lots of lube.

It's not always smooth progress. A couple of times I have to back right off when I get a little too eager. Edward is determined, though, and refuses to stop completely.

Eventually, with my arms locked straight, letting me see as much as possible, I start to push inside him. Edward grimaces, and I stop moving. It's been over a year since I've topped anyone, and it's killing me to keep still, but I can't afford to hurt Edward – not after he's put so much faith in me.

He finally starts to wriggle slightly under me, and I push further forward. Edward has his bottom lip in a death grip between his teeth, but when I pause again, he shakes his head.

"Keep going. It's just... intense. I'm okay."

I move down and kiss him gently as I start to slowly rock inside him. "I love you."

He groans, moving his head to scrape his teeth along my neck. His hands are clutching my waist, his fingers digging into my back as I start to slowly pick up speed. He's not saying much – which is quite unlike him, but every time I try to pull backwards to see his face and check he's okay, he tightens his grip on me.

I'm fighting the need to come already, and I end up pulling back more forcefully. I need to see Edward's face.

I shift onto my back, bringing him with me.

"Let's try it like this," I suggest. "I can touch you more easily, and you can be in control of how we move."

He rests his hands on my chest, and starts to move slowly. I run my hands along his thighs and up to his cock. Before I really get started, I decide to use lube, and the whine that Edward lets out when I release him gives me hope that he's starting to enjoy this.

I make sure that we're both well covered in lube, before starting to stroke him with purpose. Edward speeds his movements up a little when he finds an angle he likes, and I smile as he throws his head back.

"You doing okay?" I ask.

"Fuck, yeah," he breathes. "It's starting to feel good. Don't stop moving your hand," he demands, as my pace falters at his words.

"Good. I'll make a bottom out of you yet," I joke.

"You just might," he groans. "Fuck." He slaps my chest half-heartedly. "Why didn't you tell me it was this good?"

I snort, bucking my hips slightly to try to shut him up.

It works.

From then on, neither of us manages to form sentences. Edward mutters out a few curses, and I can't do anything except concentrate on the movements of my hand. He becomes more and more confident as he rocks on me, and I have to close my eyes to lessen the stimulation that I'm getting.

I can't hold out forever, though, and my fingers dig into Edward's hips as I press myself as far into him as I can. He's not far behind, collapsing forward onto my chest with exhaustion.

"Fuck. I can't feel my fucking legs," he grumbles, rolling off me. He reaches over the side of the bed, and throws a towel my way. "I'll get you something proper to clean up with in a minute. Just give me time to recover."

"You did most of the work," I argue, grimacing as I run the towel across my chest. "I'll go."

He nods sleepily, and by the time I've returned to the room, he's asleep. I clean him up gently, trying not to wake him as I do. I throw the towels into the laundry basket, and climb back into bed, wrapping my arms around him.

I feel like I've been awake for hours – today has been completely exhausting. Once again, though, spending time with Edward has seemed to make me feel a million times better, and as I drift off to sleep, I allow myself to imagine what it will be like when I have this every night.

~-DTD-~

I glance up at Edward, completely bewildered as he stands up and belts out a song along with the rest of the crowd.

"It's tradition," he grins as he sits back down next to me when it's done. "The seventh-inning stretch. I'll teach you the words."

"Was it on any of the games we watched on TV?" I'm so fucking confused right now.

"No, they would have been showing commercials." Why doesn't that surprise me? "Everyone sings at soccer matches in England, I don't know why you're so thrown."

"It's different at football; it doesn't seem quite as structured. Plus, I don't think I've ever really seen you sing." Edward is the picture of relaxation right now in his Cubs t-shirt and ball-cap, sunglasses on and a beaming smile on his face. He looks amazing.

The Cubs are winning, which has no doubt contributed to his good mood. I was surprised he didn't have a box here or something, but Edward insisted that he liked sitting with the other fans, and I can really see that now. He trades opinions and observations with the people around him. By midway through the third inning, everyone near us was aware that it was my first game, and chipped in whenever I asked any stupid questions about what was going on. Someone even took a photo of Edward and me together when we were struggling to get a good one at arms' length. Edward has me kitted out in a new ball-cap and jersey and, until everyone stood up and spontaneously broke into song, I was feeling like one of the fans.

"We have three more games to go to before you leave, so you'll hear it again, don't worry. Popcorn?"

"I'll never get used to the snacks you have here. In England, you're lucky if you can get a lukewarm pie. You must have thought we were horribly un-evolved."

"I thought it was quaint," he teases, pressing a kiss to my cheek before turning back to the game, the smile never leaving his face.

I'm happy to see him so relaxed. We're meeting his parents in a couple of days and, despite Edward's assurances that everything will be okay, I know he's a little concerned. While they reacted to his coming-out with an expected level of shock, I can tell he's still worried that his father hasn't completely accepted it.

Alice and Jasper are coming to Chicago for the weekend with their daughter, and I'm grateful that there'll be another friendly face there.

I shake my head, trying to bring myself back to the moment. I've been here three days already, and it's flown.

The rest of the game goes fairly smoothly, and I drink my beer and eat my snacks without needing to ask any more questions.

As the game ends, the crowd breaks out into song again – Edward included – and I sit bewildered once more. It's not even the same fucking song.

He grabs my arm when it's done – and he's finished his beer – and pulls me up to leave, pressing a kiss to my lips. I can taste the salt from his nachos, and my tongue darts out reflexively.

"Get your own nachos, next time," he laughs.

He strides off ahead of me, and I take a moment to appreciate exactly how good his ass looks in his jeans. Fuck me, I'm lucky.

I clearly take too long to move, as Edward turns around and catches me in the act. "You're all about my ass now, aren't you?"

Rolling my eyes, I rush to catch him up, giving his ass a quick squeeze as I reach him. "Maybe," I admit. "You might find out when we get back to your apartment."

Edward's eyes widen, and then he grabs my hand and marches us off at a rapid pace. Suddenly, he stops, and frowns at me.

"It's a condo."

* * *

**AN: Tentative two weeks for the next update. Maybe sooner :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Thank you guys for all the reviews/favourites/alerts!  
**

**A masstive thank you to KarenEC who pre-reads for me - she turned this chapter around in under twelve hours so I could get it out on time.  
**

******Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_**  
**_

* * *

Edward places his hand on my thigh reassuringly as I rub anti-bacterial gel into my hands for what must be the fifth time on this journey alone.

"It'll be fine, you know. If I can deal with Garrett, you can cope with my family."

I sigh. "I'm starting to get a new appreciation for how horrible Gar was to you."

I see Edward glance at me before he pulls the car over outside of a house. My eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "We're not there yet, don't worry. You really are concerned, aren't you? Garrett wasn't that bad, you know. And I did kind of deserve it." He cringes slightly at the memory.

"Sorry. I guess meeting families has just never gone well for me before."

"You mean the one time you had a serious relationship?" he gently teases, his hand coming to play at the nape of my neck. "Seriously, don't freak out. It doesn't really matter to me what they think, anyway, but I'm sure everyone will love you. Whatever happens, it won't change things." He stares out of the windscreen for a moment, lost in thought. "I wouldn't recommend telling Alice and Jasper that Seth has a crush on Bella, though."

"Oh, man," I laugh. "That was my opening line."

"You'll be okay. C'mon, I don't want us to be late."

I nod, and Edward starts us moving again. I rest my head back against the seat, and try to gather my thoughts together properly. We end up in a neighbourhood where the houses are larger, and a lot more spaced out. It's a complete contrast to both my flat in London, and Edward's in the city.

Before I know it, we're inside Edward's parents' house and Edward is being chastised by his mother for not visiting often enough while I stand awkwardly at the side. Jasper and Alice round a corner, and I grin at the only other person here that I know.

They walk over to greet me, and it's probably the first time I've ever been grateful to someone for shaking my hand. I finally don't feel like a spare part. Jasper quickly introduces me to Alice, who gives me a brief hug – clearly Edward has informed her about my issues.

"Bella's upstairs, reading. She'll be down soon, I'm sure," Jasper apologises.

"It's fine. I'm sure she doesn't want to be stuck around a bunch of adults, anyway."

"She's used to it," Edward cuts in, quickly brushing his hand over my lower back. "Hi, Jasper."

They shake hands and Edward shoots a grin at his little sister. "Hi, squirt." Alice scowls at him, but it's playful, and she gives him a tight hug.

Edward's parents are standing off to the side, and I swallow nervously as Edward turns us slightly to face them.

"This is Carlisle Cullen," he smiles. "And these are my parents."

I barely manage to resist rolling my eyes; I'd worked that much out for myself.

Edward's mum gives me a gentle smile and a brief hug, much like Alice did.

"Hi, Mrs. Masen." I feel like I'm back at work, addressing her so formally, and I find myself glad when she insists that I call her Elizabeth.

Edward's dad hangs back, giving me a tight smile, a 'hello,' and a curious stare, but not much more. I try not to let it bother me – the reception could have been an awful lot worse.

My attention is drawn away from Edward Senior's gaze by Bella coming downstairs. Compared to my nephews, she's practically silent, and I realise why Jared and Seth were such a culture shock for Edward. Bella soon spots her uncle and breaks out into a huge grin, skidding along the floor in socked feet to greet him.

"Hi, Uncle Edward."

He smiles widely, immediately picking her up. "Hey, Beautiful."

"Let's move somewhere more comfortable," Edward's mum suggests, waving us toward a room to our side.

Bella curls up in a cozy-looking chair, leaving two sofas free. Edward pulls me down next to him on one, Alice squeezing in on his other side, while their parents take the other couch. Jasper ends up on the floor in front of Bella. She hands him a cushion to sit on, and proceeds to use his shoulders as a foot rest. I cringe, but try not to make it completely obvious – I don't need Edward's entire family being witness to my ridiculousness.

I listen as Bella fills Edward in on the book she's reading at the moment – one of the Harry Potter series – and I can't help but grin as Edward enthuses about it right along with her. Eventually, Alice prods him to switch places with me.

"So, Carlisle, how much of Chicago have you seen so far? Has my brother been a decent host? Because if he hasn't, I have a whole list of places you can go. You're still here for another week, right?"

"Yeah, just over a week." I try not to cringe at how quickly the time has passed already. "He's shown me around. I've seen a lot of Wrigley Field," I laugh.

Alice groans. "He didn't take you on a tour, did he?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Urgh, he's obsessed."

"There's nothing wrong with supporting a good baseball team, Alice," Edward's dad interjects. I try not to make eye contact with him. I've only seen one game, baseball conversations are a little out of my league.

Jasper snorts, clearly amused by the classification.

"Shut it, Texas," Edward laughs.

"Apart from sports, what have you done?"

I try to stop the blush that is threatening to give us away, but I'm not sure I manage. "We've been to Millennium Park a couple of times, and seen a couple of concerts."

"Ooooh, Jasper, we should see what's on tonight. It's been forever since I've been," Alice smiles. "Did you enjoy it, Carlisle?"

Another rush of warmth passes over me as I remember Edward picking out a spot for us at the back of the lawn, so we were fairly hidden. He pulled me to sit between his legs and proceeded to make me miss almost the entire show as he distracted me with teasing touches and kisses.

"Yeah, it was good fun. We spent most of one afternoon and evening there, so I got to take some photos, too."

"Have you got your camera with you?"

"It's in Edward's car, I think." I look to Edward for confirmation and he nods, digging his keys out of his pocket.

"You can grab it if you want," he says, handing the keys over. "He took some really good shots."

I leave Edward building me up, and dart out to the car to collect my camera, and my thoughts. It's going well so far. I'm still a little worried about Edward's dad, but there's not too much I can do about it. He hasn't been outwardly rude to me, so I can only be grateful for that.

When I return to the house, Edward's mum is sitting on the arm of the sofa, ready to look through some of my pictures. I send up a quick prayer of thanks that I didn't let Edward talk me into taking any photos of us in bed last night. He was pretty persuasive, but I managed to resist. I shoot him a look, and he grins back, clearly understanding what I am thinking about.

Alice and her mum coo over some of the photographs, and if I was ever worried that either of them disapproved of my relationship with Edward, I'm not now. His mum is beaming with pride at some of the pictures of us, making Edward shuffle uncomfortably next to me at the attention, despite being engrossed in a conversation with his father and Jasper about work.

They find some pictures from England, and even Bella comes over to look. She sees a picture of Seth, and asks immediately who he is, while I grin at Edward knowingly.

Before we get too much further, something beeps in the kitchen and Elizabeth dashes out to go to serve the food. Edward and Alice trail after her and, not wanting to be left alone with his father, I follow them out before Jasper can. It's a good chance to see how clean their kitchen is, too; I'm never going to pass up an opportunity to see where my food is prepared.

We all settle down to eat, and the family makes small talk about things I don't know much about. I'm content for the focus to be off me, though, and I enjoy hearing the easy flow of conversation around me. The food is delicious, and I make a point of complimenting Elizabeth's cooking. She smiles at me – a genuine smile – as Edward echoes my words, followed by the rest of the table.

The gesture seems to alert Alice to my presence again, though, and she turns to me, smiling. "Those pictures you took were really good, Carlisle."

I'm never sure about the right way to accept compliments, but I grin back, regardless. "Thanks. I really enjoy it, actually."

Alice nods. "I can tell. You know, I work for an advertising company, you could fit right in somewhere like that with your eye for art."

I swallow nervously. My job isn't something I really needed brought up while I was here, and my fears are realised as Edward Sr. starts to talk.

"What is it, exactly, that you do, Carlisle?"

"I'm a chauffeur."

He raises an eyebrow at me while he spears some meat off his plate. "So you drive people around all day?"

I nod, forcing myself to meet his eyes.

"Haven't you ever had ambitions for more?"

I can feel Edward tense up; he knows this is a sore subject for me. I need to do this on my own, though, and I don't drop my gaze. "I think having any job in this climate is good; I enjoy it, for the most part, anyway."

"He's good at it," Jasper chimes in.

"Good at driving? Congratulations." The underlying distain in his voice is obvious to everyone at the table. "Gives you plenty of opportunity to meet rich men, too, huh?"

"Dad!" Edward exclaims. Everyone else around the table wears matching looks of horror, except for Bella, who's reading a book she's snuck onto her lap.

Edward Sr. shrugs. "I was just putting it out there. This is all working out well for Carlisle. I'm not sure what you're getting out of the deal, though, Edward." With that, he turns back to his food, seemingly oblivious to what a complete dickhead he's being.

I glance at Edward, unwilling to engage his father in an argument. Edward's focus isn't on me, though, although his hand sneaks onto my leg. His stare is fixed firmly on his father.

"I get plenty out of the deal, thanks, Dad. I know what I'm doing."

He gets no response other than a huff of displeasure, and I sigh softly, knowing that this has ruined everyone's day.

The meal continues in a tense silence, only occasionally interrupted by Elizabeth trying to make light conversation. Edward's hand rests on my knee, tensing and relaxing periodically as I prod at my food, my appetite chased away by Edward Sr.'s words.

I'm all for escaping straight after we've eaten, but when Edward makes a move to leave, Alice insists we stay a little longer – arguing that they've flown in from New York to see us. We end up playing a board game with Bella and her parents, while Edward's mum and dad look on. Edward Sr. has stayed quiet since the meal, and I'm not about to try to make conversation with him. We team up, Bella choosing to be on the same side as Edward and me. Soon enough, we almost forget that Edward Sr. is there, our focus on the game we are playing. Edward's hand covers mine as we sit on the floor, and I grin at the simple acceptance from almost all members of the family. It's almost enough to counteract the fact that I'm sitting on the floor.

I grab my camera and snap a few pictures as we play. Alice asks if she can take some, too, and I agree, trying not to cringe at someone else touching the expensive equipment.

Our team wins the game, and Edward spins Bella around the room triumphantly. As they come to a stop by me, he drops a kiss onto my cheek. I hear the camera click at the same time as Edward Sr. leaves the room with a huff.

I raise my eyebrows at Edward, and he shrugs, seemingly unconcerned, before announcing that it's time for us to leave.

We say our goodbyes, Edward Sr. merely nodding at us from the kitchen as we turn to go. Edward promises his sister that he will visit them in New York soon, assures his mother that he will see them again soon, and finally we get through the door.

The drive home passes in almost complete silence, the radio providing background noise as we both sit and reflect on the day. Edward's free hand rests on my leg throughout the ride, and I relax slightly in the knowledge that he's not annoyed with me.

He grabs my hand as we stride to his condo, and the minute we have kicked our shoes off, Edward pulls me to his bedroom. He flicks the TV on and pulls me down onto the bed with him, so that I'm lying with my head nestled under his chin. I slide my hand under his shirt, and gently tease at his side as I try to figure out how to break the slightly awkward silence.

"You know, if I was just out looking for rich guys, I'd have picked one from England. At least then I'd be getting laid more often."

Edward chuckles softly into my hair before pulling back to look at me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Your dad's just upset and confused; I've had worse thrown at me in my time. Are you doing okay?"

He sighs softly. "I don't know. Not really. I get that he's confused, but it doesn't give him the right to say stuff like that to you. As for walking out of the room, I don't know, you'd think he'd be able to suck it up. It's not like I tried to get you naked."

I move my hand from under his shirt and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sure he'll come around."

Edward nods, but doesn't say anything else, turning his attention to the TV. I was thinking of distracting him from today's events with sex, but he's pretty engrossed in the game, and I feel myself drifting off to sleep; the baseball not doing much to hold my attention.

A gentle shake of my shoulder wakes me, and I slowly open my eyes to see Edward smiling down apologetically at me. He's propped up on one elbow, his free hand teasing over my shirt. "Alice and Jasper are coming over with Bella. Apparently my dad's still being a dick, so they decided to decamp here for the night."

I nod, trying to get my bearings. The game is still going on, so I can't have slept too long. "Oh man," I groan. "Don't I even have time to fuck you? I had plans for tonight."

His eyebrows rise slightly, I'm guess I'm not normally so candid unless we're naked together. "If I'd known that, I would have asked them to wait a while," he complains, drumming his fingers against my chest in annoyance. "They're on their way now, though. Sorry. Maybe we can do it tonight and keep quiet?" His suggestion is full of hope, and I laugh.

"Do you think you can really keep quiet?"

He blushes. He's more than aware of how vocal he can get, and exactly how much I love it, just not when his family is in the same building.

"Okay. Tomorrow, then?" he asks eagerly, his hand squeezing at my hip.

"Yeah, of course."

Edward groans, pushing his groin into mine as he leans down to kiss me. "We've got time for a quick shower, first."

"How quick?"

"Probably too quick," he says sadly. "But I can handle a bit of teasing if you can, too?"

I grin; the idea of teasing Edward is always appealing, and I allow him to haul me up and off the bed. He darts into the bathroom quickly, and I feel the tension leaving my shoulders now that I know he isn't too concerned by what happened today. I strip my clothes off slowly, throwing them into the laundry hamper, as I try to reflect on the day a little.

All my thinking obviously takes too long, as Edward shouts out to me from the shower. "You're not even going to have time to wash yourself if you don't hurry up, let alone wash me."

I snicker; I always make time to wash properly. Regardless, I hurriedly remove the rest of my clothes, not wanting to waste any extra time with Edward. Especially when he's naked.

~-DTD-~

I glance around from my spot on the sofa as Edward paces up and down behind me, gripping his phone so hard I'm worried it will break. He's clearly tense, and if his body language wasn't enough to give it away, his words certainly are.

"Well, you need to fucking sort it out then, don't you? It's not my fault everything's fucked, it's yours. Work all night if you fucking have to, and don't expect to be paid any extra."

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. This phone conversation has gone on for at least half an hour, and it's bringing out the asshole that I first believed Edward was. He's being awful to whoever's on the phone; I fucking hate it.

An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach, both at his attitude and his words. I really hope that whatever's wrong won't cost him the move to England.

I flick through the TV channels, bored with watching the film that's on – I muted it while Edward answered his call, and half an hour of trying to figure out what's happening is trying my patience. Edward sees what I'm doing, and snatches the remote control from me, changing the channel back. I frown at him, and head out to the kitchen, unwilling to be in a room with him while he's being such a dick.

The kitchen doesn't provide much of an escape, though, and I decide to take a shower. We've spent all morning wandering around the city, and I'm feeling pretty hot and gross. I was hoping Edward would join me, but now I'm almost happy that he's busy with his phone call.

When I'm feeling more refreshed, I step out of the shower, grabbing a towel and walking straight through into the bedroom. I stop in the doorway when I see Edward sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

"You okay?" I ask, stepping into the room.

"Yeah. I was going to join you, but the door was locked."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realise." I genuinely didn't notice I had done that. I can't say I'm overly sorry, though. "What was the phone call about?"

"One of my staff members has managed to delete a chunk of code from a program that was due to go live next week. I don't know how they did it, but they can't even find the backups."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"You were pretty rude to him on the phone."

"Well, he fucked things up, he deserved it."

I shrug, moving towards the closet to grab some clothes for myself. Edward follows me.

"What's wrong?"

"Would you talk to me like that if I fucked up?"

"No!" he exclaims. "I'm not paying you to do things properly, Carlisle." My eyes flick up to his, and he rushes to explain. "I mean, I'm not paying you at all. Jesus. I wouldn't ever talk to you like that. I love you. Work is work, and you are you. Completely separate things."

I nod, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Okay. I don't like you being an asshole."

"Sometimes I can't help it. It's a bit of a default setting; I do work with morons. I'll try to leave the attitude in the office, though. Does that work?"

"Yeah, I guess so. No snatching the remote control from me, either."

"Sorry, I had it in my head that I wanted to watch the movie with you. I'm not really sure why I stopped you switching channels, though."

"Because you're an asshole?" I grin.

"Probably," he allows, as I pull on a pair of jeans. "Don't forget we're going to the baseball tonight and you'll need to layer up; it's going to get cold later on."

"Okay." I turn back to look through my stuff; Edward will want me to wear something with a Cubs logo on somewhere, I'm sure.

"Here, wear this one."

I spin around to see Edward holding out his own Cubs top. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." A slight blush creeps up his cheeks as he hands me the shirt and pulls me in close. "Then it'll smell like you after you go."

And just like that, he returns to the Edward that I fell in love with.

~-DTD-~

"Did you have a good vacation?" Edward murmurs. I'm pressed into his side as close as we can get with these damn seatbelts on.

"You know I did. I loved it, I loved Chicago, and I loved hanging out with you."

"Good, I'm glad. I'd want us to spend a fair bit of time here, even if I moved to England."

I nod against his shoulder; I'd figured as much. We might have to figure a few things out, but I'm sure we'll manage somehow.

"I'm really going to miss you, you know?" he confesses. We spent most of yesterday in bed together, desperate to make the most of everything, and he told me then how much he struggles to sleep when I'm not around. I can't say I have the same issue, but I can see where he's coming from. It's amazing how quickly you become used to sleeping in a cocoon of someone's arms.

"Well, hopefully it won't be for too much longer, yeah?" He has a meeting at work at eight in the morning tomorrow. By the time I land back in the UK, he'll know whether or not he will be following me in a few months' time.

"Fingers crossed," he agrees, and then chuckles. "Not that I can do much with my fingers today. They were pretty damn busy on you yesterday."

I groan in agreement. He definitely tried to cover all the bases. I'm not complaining.

We pull up outside the airport, and Edward tightens his grip around my shoulders briefly before releasing me and starting to move out of the car.

I let the driver get my bags out of the car, more than aware that it's a bit of an asshole move, but I'm completely unwilling to let go of Edward's hand right now.

I check in quickly, letting Edward find us a quiet corner of the airport where we can say goodbye. It's late at night, so it's not too difficult.

He leans back against a wall, pulling me in to him. "Next time we're at an airport, we're never saying goodbye again. I don't care how we fucking swing it. I'm sick of one of us leaving; it sucks from this end of the deal, too."

"Well, you'll be moving over soon, right? So you're right, we won't have to say goodbye."

"Positive thinking?"

"Positive thinking," I confirm. I'm down for that. I'm down for anything if it means that I never have to feel like I'm tearing myself apart again.

He meets my lips gently with his own; his arms squeezing me so tightly that I'm fairly sure I'll pass out from lack of oxygen soon. I can't bring myself to care. Maybe if I collapse here, I can stay a little longer.

We stay there for longer than is probably appropriate, saying goodbye to each other fairly chastely, until Edward finally pulls back a little.

"We should move. I need to get back to the car, and you need to go and relax in the lounge before your flight. I don't want you feeling uncomfortable on the plane because I didn't give you long enough to calm down."

I laugh softly, he knows me so damn well.

"Okay."

He catches my hand and walks me until we get to a point where he can't follow any more. His hand releases mine as we turn to face each other.

I haul in a deep breath. I hate this so fucking much. "I love you. Good luck tomorrow; call me as soon as you can."

He nods. "I will. When do you land?"

"Just after nine in the morning, your time, I think."

"Okay." He presses a gentle kiss on my lips, our goodbye kiss the total opposite of the hello kiss that he greeted me with two weeks ago. "I love you. Be safe."

I turn around, and walk through to security. I don't turn around. If I see his face again I'm fairly sure I won't be able to make my feet carry me any further away.

When I'm in the lounge and have taken advantage of all the free food, I fire off a quick email to Edward. By the time I'm finally starting to relax, it's time to board. I take two of Tanya's tablets, not caring that I should try to stay awake if I want to get back on British time. I want to be home, and I want to hear Edward's news.

I switch my phone on the minute we land, but there are no missed calls.

The seemingly interminable wait at baggage claim is interrupted, however, by my phone buzzing in my pocket. I fish it out, and try to compose myself before I answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, you're back!" I can hear the smile in Edward's voice, and I can feel the knot in my stomach starting to loosen. "How was your flight?"

"It was fine, I guess. I slept the whole time. Who cares about the flight, anyway? How was your meeting?"

"Well. I hope you're ready for a new roommate?"

I feel relief rush through me, but I'm not letting his word choice pass me by. "Roommate?"

"Bed mate?" he laughs.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure."

"Live-in partner?"

"That's better."

"So we're doing this, then? I'm not sure I'll always live up to your OCD standards," he warns.

"You won't," I confirm. "I'll just have to learn to deal with it, though. And you can brush up on your neatness."

"Or we can hire a cleaner," he bargains.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

I see my bag come onto the conveyer belt. "Shit. Hold on."

Cringing as I push my way through the dense crowd, I just about manage to make it to my bag before it disappears.

"Sorry," I apologise once I've got myself sorted. "Where was I?"

"We were negotiating about getting a cleaner."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I can't say I care all that much right now."

"Really?"

"Really." I smile, letting his news sink in. "Are you really moving over here?"

"Yeah, in two or three months' time, I think. I told you we weren't doing this goodbye shit any more. I'm done with it."

If I'd known I would feel this good when I found out Edward was going to move here, I would have pushed him to do it even faster. I feel fucking amazing. "I love you."

He laughs softly. "I love you, too, roomie."

* * *

**AN: Probably two weeks agan for the next chapter, sorry! We're on the wind down now, too. Only one or two more chapters left, I'd guess.  
**


	25. Chapter 25

**AN at the end.**

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"You know, I'm fairly sure that doesn't count as helping."

Garrett is trying on one of the t-shirts I've put in the pile to donate to charity. He's slightly more well-built than I am, and the shirt pulls across his chest, clinging to his muscles. He looks good.

"Hey," he argues. "If I take this off your hands, it's helping."

"It was going to charity, anyway."

"I didn't mean helping _you_; I meant helping the female population in general. If I'm wearing a shirt like this, it's bound to lift their spirits." He glances at himself in the mirror, a smug grin on his face. "I'm hot; I'm surprised you can resist me."

"I don't know how I'm managing to stop myself from throwing you down onto that bed and fucking you into next week," I respond dryly.

"It's because you know you'd never be able to go back to Edward after that. Once you've had me, nothing else can compare."

"Sure." I roll my eyes; his confidence knows no bounds. "On that note, what's going on with Kate?"

"Fuck off, C."

"You said it yourself, Gar: you're so damn irresistible."

He shrugs arrogantly. "She didn't know what she had. She'll soon see what she's missing, and come crawling back."

He'd taken their break up a few weeks back pretty badly, but he was finally at a stage where he was happy to take some shit about it. Apparently, even calmed-down Garrett wasn't sedate enough for Kate, and she decided they needed a break. Garrett still doesn't want to settle down though; I think that might end up being a deal-breaker. He doesn't seem too upset anymore, and he's clearly on the prowl for more women, so I'm not too worried about him.

"Can I keep this, then?" He plucks at the t-shirt, obviously reluctant to take it off.

"Yeah, if you want. As long as it's out of here, I don't really care where it goes."

"Thanks, man."

"No worries. Now will you help me sort all this stuff out?" I plead. The frustration of this task is starting to wear on me, added to the fact that Edward will be moving over soon. I'm a bit of a mess, and much as I love my best friend, he's being no fucking help at all.

"Carlisle, you have absolutely no extra shit in your flat anywhere. I don't even know how you're finding stuff to give away."

"I know," I groan. "That's why I need help."

Edward decided that he didn't want to move into somewhere he hasn't seen yet, so he's moving in with me until we find somewhere bigger that we both like. I can't complain about having him here all the time, but this place wasn't really designed for two people to live comfortably. Especially when one of them is me and the other is moving from a place four times the size of mine.

I've spent every spare moment I've had in the last few weeks trying to create some space for Edward's belongings. I even bribed the kids to help out when I was sorting out the guest bedroom. There still isn't much room, though. I'm lucky that Edward can keep a lot of stuff in Chicago. He's roped Alice and Jasper into storing some of the things he will need when we have enough room for them, so they can ship them out for him.

I sigh, glancing over the piles of clothes I've made. I might have managed to cull a boxful of clothes from my wardrobe, but there's still a lot left. I'm just going to have to hope that Edward isn't bringing too much over with him to begin with. Given that there are a couple of boxes of his stuff arriving early next week though, I'm not too hopeful.

"Come on," Garrett grins. "Let's go to drop this stuff off and then get a beer. I'm fed up with you being all stressed out. He's not even going to be here until next weekend."

"Maybe the reason I'm stressed out is that he's not here and I have to put up with you," I laugh, grabbing the box of clothes for donation and following Garrett out of the room.

He stops suddenly and spins to face me, clutching his chest dramatically. "You mean you don't love me? I come here to help you out and you throw it back in my face." I raise my eyebrow at him, and he collapses into laughter. "Beer's on you, C. I help out and all I get is shit."

We traipse out of my flat together, and an hour later Garrett is enjoying the attention that my t-shirt is giving him, nodding smugly at the women who eye him as they walk past. It's a lovely evening, so we're sitting in the beer garden of a nearby pub, and enjoying the feel of the sun on our skin.

"Are you excited for Edward moving in, then?"

I sip my beer and nod at Garrett. "Yeah, I am. I'm nervous, too, though."

"Worried he won't be able to put your DVDs in the right order?" he teases.

"I'm fairly sure he knows his alphabet, Garrett." My best friend merely grins impishly at me. "I think he might have a hard time living with me, though – I'm pretty terrible when I get going."

"No shit," he deadpans.

I ignore him – a useful tactic to employ. "As long as Edward likes his job, I think we'll be okay. It'll take us a while to get into a routine, and I can't see it happening until we find somewhere else to live."

"You should move closer to me," Garrett suggests, his eyes fixed on something over my shoulder – probably someone with a low cut top on. "I bet I'll hardly get to see you now – you'll be too busy blowing Edward's... mind," he laughs. "So at least if you're closer we can catch up more easily."

There's probably more honesty behind his words than he'd care to admit.

"I'm glad you acknowledge my sexual prowess," I grin. "Moving nearer you is a distinct possibility, actually. I'd assume he'd want to be closer to the city centre."

"Either that or you'll move fucking miles away," he grumbles. "Losing my best friend to a rich, older man. Do you think I could use that as a chat-up line? Women like to offer comfort."

"He's only five years older than us, you drama queen. Anyway, I'll build you a granny-flat if that happens, don't worry," I offer. "I'm not very well up on chatting women up, though, so you're on your own with that one."

Garrett nods, satisfied, his eyes still fixed over my shoulder.

"Hey, do you think I've got a chance with her?" I start to turn around to see who he's talking about, and he grabs my arm. "Don't just stare, you dick – you're a shit wingman. Be smooth about it."

I put my sunglasses on and take a sip of beer, trying to make it look like I'm just enjoying the surroundings as I glance around. My eyes land on the woman I'm sure Garrett is talking about; she's just his type, and I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up going home with her, judging by the way she's looking at him.

I turn back to see Garrett frowning at me.

"What?" I ask, bemused by his attitude. "She's nice, you should go for it."

He rolls his eyes. "Jesus, C, you're fucking blind, you know that? Turn around again."

I do as he tells me, not even bothering to be smooth about it this time, and let my eyes drift past his intended conquest. They reach the doors of the pub, and I turn back to Garrett, removing my sunglasses, my eyes wide at what I think I've seen.

"There's a guy at the bar who looks an awful lot like Edward." My best friend grins at me, and I narrow my eyes at him. "Is it Edward?"

"You'll find out in about ten seconds," he laughs.

A hand lands on my shoulder, and I look up to see Edward behind me.

"Hi," he smiles.

"You're here," I say, completely unnecessarily, as he sits down next to me on the bench.

"Yeah, I had an extra week of leave to take, so we decided I might as well take it now, spend some time getting acclimatised." He rests his drink on the table, and squeezes my leg with his hand, his joy barely suppressed.

"Where's all your stuff?"

"I dropped it off at your place; Garrett sent me his spare key –"

"I want that back, by the way," my best friend butts in.

Edward nods, fishing in his pocket for the key to hand over. Garrett takes it from him, draining the rest of his pint before standing up.

"I'm going to leave you two lovebirds to it. C, call me when you come up for air," he grins, and then turns to Edward, offering him his hand. "Welcome home, man."

"Thanks, Garrett," Edward smiles back, shaking Garrett's hand, and my best friend troops off, handing his phone number to the woman he was eyeing up as he goes.

I press a gentle kiss to Edward's lips. "I love you. We're somewhere way too public for what I actually want to do to you right now, by the way."

"Really?" he murmurs, his hand tightening in my hair at the implication. "And what's that?"

"Beat the crap out of you for showing up without any warning," I laugh.

He moves back slightly, trying to judge how much truth is behind my words. "Garrett said you wouldn't mind."

"I don't mind, I'm just teasing you. I'm not sure the flat is ready yet, though."

Edward raises his eyebrow, clearly sceptical.

"Well, I mean, it's clean and tidy. There's just not much room in it yet," I groan.

"Is there room on the bed?" he asks, his hand still playing in my hair.

I nod, everything is back where it belongs now, and the bed is free of the piles of clothes that had covered it.

"Well, right now, that's all I care about," he admits. "If you can feed me, and give me somewhere to sleep and get you naked, I'm good."

"In that order?" I ask. My hand is trailing along his thigh, still fairly innocently, but there is definitely an undercurrent to our words.

"Maybe. Food first, no matter what; you can probably persuade me on the order of the other two."

I try to keep my voice neutral, despite how much Edward's words are tempting me. He's probably exhausted. "Okay, drink up; we can get some food on the way back. Or we can eat here, if you want?"

"I'd rather eat somewhere a bit more private. I'm not sure how long I can last without ripping your clothes off, and I'm not sure that people here would appreciate that as much as I will." He pulls playfully at my t-shirt, and I grin as I drink the rest of my beer.

Edward finally stops teasing me long enough to finish his drink, and I take the opportunity to admire just how good he looks right now. He's clearly jet-lagged, but the good mood radiates from him, and I can appreciate exactly why he wants to be somewhere private right now.

We pick up a pizza on the way home, and some token salad, too. Edward doesn't let go of my hand once, which makes carrying the food awkward, but I can deal with it.

"Garrett stole my line," I say apologetically as I open the door to my flat. "Welcome home."

Edward kisses me gently before following me past his bags which are by the door. I press my lips together to stop myself from saying anything about them – I can't bitch at him for it, it's not like he had another choice.

As always, he knows what I'm thinking, though. "Do you want me to put them somewhere else?"

I smile sheepishly. "You can start unpacking, if you want?"

He shrugs. "I brought everything I'd need urgently in my backpack. Everything else can wait."

It was a sensible plan, even if it makes me cringe. "You can leave them in the spare bedroom. There's not too much extra space in my room."

"And it means you don't have to see unpacked bags," he guesses, with a chuckle.

"Maybe," I admit. "Go on, and I'll sort the food out."

He nods and trails off to do whatever he decided on. I unpack the pizza, pulling out a couple of plates and some napkins, and find some beer in the fridge for us. I don't have much in right now and I hope Edward won't mind being dragged out to do some food shopping tomorrow.

We sit down in front of the TV, Edward's arm flung over my shoulders while we eat. He makes it through about half of the film we're watching before his yawns become too much.

He tugs at the shoulder of my t-shirt. "I need to go to bed. I reckon I have about half an hour before I crash out completely. What do you think we can get done in that time?"

I smile at him and stand up, pulling him by his hands into my bedroom. I can clear up when he's asleep.

"Oh, I think we can get plenty done."

Our hands are immediately all over each other, I'm surprised we lasted this long. Once my top is gone, Edward pushes at my jeans and boxer-briefs, and I kick them off while working at his clothes.

"Jesus," he groans as he falls over me on the bed, his jeans at his ankles as he holds himself over me with one hand. "I've missed this."

"Me too." My voice is muffled as I kiss his shoulder. "You don't have to miss it ever again, though."

Edward pulls back slightly, a smile on his face that warms my heart. "You're right. Jesus. I wasn't sure this day would ever arrive."

"Well, it did – finally," I agree, my hands clutching at him to try to get him closer to me again. It works, and he presses fully against me.

"I don't think I'm going to last half an hour," he laughs wryly, starting to move his hips against mine. The sensations are nearly overwhelming. It's been nearly three months since I left Chicago, and it's ridiculously good to feel him against me.

"Yeah, me neither." I admit. "Don't worry about it; we've got a long time to make up for it."

"That's true." He finds his rhythm, rutting against me hard and fast, and I wrap my legs around his, keeping him pressed against me. A fleeting thought runs through my mind that I should really be the one doing the work, given his exhaustion, but what he's doing feels far too good to stop.

My hands clutch at his back and shoulders as he rocks against me, his breath hot against my neck. His free hand trails up and down my side, while his other is laced through my hair – the sensations making me shiver with pleasure.

He raises his head as his movements become less controlled. I'm glad, because I can feel myself losing it already. If it wasn't with someone who was obviously going the same way, I'd almost be embarrassed at my speed.

"Fuck, I love you, Carlisle," he breathes out, his lips practically touching mine.

I groan, his words sending fire through my veins. My legs tighten around him, pressing us as close together as possible, as I tilt my chin slightly, allowing our lips to meet. I snake one of my hands from his back and into his hair, tightening my grip as I arch up against him as the sensations overwhelm me. Edward isn't far behind, and he collapses on top of me, breathing hard.

"I missed that," he pants against my skin. "I missed you."

I smile into his hair. "I missed you, too."

"I'm not sure I can move," he groans, and I can feel him wiggling his feet to try to get some sensation back.

"Well, if you don't, we might end up welded together," I cringe, wriggling slightly underneath him.

"Good point," he laughs. With a huff he rolls over onto his back, and lies back with his eyes closed. I give him a soft kiss, before darting off to get something to clean us both up with. I'm fairly sure he'll be asleep within minutes, and I don't want to keep him awake any longer than he needs to be, he's obviously tired from his long day.

Once we're both sorted, and Edward is asleep, I put some clothes back on, and head out to tidy up a little. I clear away our plates and glasses, and shut the door to the spare room so I can't see Edward's bags in there.

It's still fairly early, so I put the TV on, unwilling to disturb Edward by shuffling around in bed with him – even if I am desperate to be near him. I pick my phone up from the table, and send a quick text to Garrett to thank him for helping Edward surprise me.

Within minutes I have a reply.

"_No worries, I was tired of you moping – you're lame when you're lovesick. Hey - the hot woman from the pub rang me – I'm meeting her soon; I plan to be fully distracted by her breasts for the rest of the night. You're missing out, man."_

I laugh. It's such a Garrett response, and I'm not quite sure what to do with it.

"_Not really my scene, Gar. Have a good night."_

Again, his response is immediate.

"_Tell Edward to grow some moobs – best of both worlds! Anyway, stop bothering me and go and fuck your boyfriend; I need to go and rock a random stranger's world. Later!"_

I roll my eyes, throwing my phone down next to me, and turn the TV off again, uninterested by anything that's on. It's still too early to go to bed, so I grab my laptop to check my schedule for the next couple of days, hoping it's fairly light – I don't want to miss too much time with Edward. It takes forever to load, and I almost give up, but it's so much easier to see the overview on a proper screen instead of my phone.

I'm in luck, I don't have a full schedule at any time this week, and I have the whole of next week off – which I booked for when Edward was supposed to be coming over. Hopefully we'll have some time to house hunt – I'm not sure how long this arrangement is going to last; my flat wasn't built for two people.

Once the laptop is all shut down, I head into the kitchen and make a list of food we need to buy tomorrow. I suddenly realise that I hardly even know what food Edward eats. Whenever we're together, we're ordering food from somewhere or other; it's rare that we bother to cook.

I crumple up the list I made, trying not to freak out that I've just moved Edward into my flat and I don't even know what his favourite sandwich filling is.

I spot some movement out of the corner of my eye, and turn to see a sleep-rumpled Edward standing in the door of my bedroom.

He scrubs at his eyes a little. "I needed a drink."

Standing up, a go to grab one out of the fridge. "What's your favourite sandwich filling?"

"Oh, I'm not hungry. I just need water, and for you to come back to bed."

I hand the bottle of water over and laugh softly. "I wasn't going to make it, I was just wondering."

"PB&J. It's like a kid's sandwich but I love it. You knew that."

He's right. "I did know that," I grin.

"Am I dreaming? Because this is a really fucking weird conversation." Edward shakes his head slowly, clearly quite confused at my agitation.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just being odd."

"Nothing new, then?" he laughs. "Come back to bed; I miss you. I didn't move thousands of miles for you to sit in the damn kitchen."

I nod. "I'll be through in a minute. Go back to sleep, you're exhausted."

He's gone before I even finish my sentence.

I look at the crumpled list, and unfold it slowly, adding Edward's preferences to it before following him through to our bedroom, excited to have him in my arms and not have to let him go again.

~-DTD-~

"I like it," I offer.

Edward shakes his head. "No, the sun will beam right through that window and into our faces in the evenings. I spend all day squinting at a computer screen; I'm not doing it when I get home, too."

"I think you need to get your eyes checked," I suggest. "Squinting isn't good for you."

He's unimpressed with my help. "Focus, Carlisle."

"Fine, don't cry to me when you can't see beyond the end of your nose," I warn playfully. "We could rearrange in here, it's not a huge problem. It's such a nice place."

"I don't think it would look right if we did that."

This is the way that looking for a new place has gone for the last three months. One of us – usually Edward – finds something ridiculous that makes the place apparently unlivable, and we have to keep looking. We're not even looking to buy, just rent – it's ridiculous. We're really on top of each other at my place, though, and not always in a fun way. We need to move soon.

Apart from having no room, living together has been going pretty well, though. Edward is working hard, and enjoying settling into a new team. It means we don't always see each other beyond sleeping in the same bed for a few hours, but he tries to match up his schedule with mine, so that we get some quality time together each week. We've even starting to find a balance between spending every spare second we have with only each other, and starting to spend more time with friends.

Garrett is pleased that we're looking for a place closer to the city centre, and despite their rocky start, he and Edward get on well now. Almost too well – they're always joining forces to wind me up.

As well as Garrett, Edward has met our wider group of friends and charmed them all, even sitting through a football match with them and pretending to enjoy it. I think he's slowly being converted to the sporting religion of our country – I have no doubt that soon I will lose him every other Saturday afternoon to a game.

Edward's making friends at work, too. It was difficult for him, coming over from the US and trying to change things here, but everyone seems to have a healthy respect for the way he does things, and it's starting to pay off. I've only met his workmates once, but they were all friendly enough, and didn't bat an eyelid when Edward pressed a kiss to my lips in front of all of them.

It's good, having him in the same country – my nerves about him being here full time weren't warranted, thankfully. In general, we're settling into a decent routine, and Edward is starting to understand – or at least accept – the intricacies of my OCD. He's learnt that when I said I wasn't easy to live with, I wasn't joking. In turn, I have started to accept that sometimes it's going to take him a while to notice things that stand out to me, and that he will sort them eventually.

The only sore point in the move has been the further deterioration of his relationship with his father. While he was in Chicago, he saw his parents fairly regularly, so they were forced to talk. Now that he's in London, there is no need for him to push the relationship, and he hasn't. It's not something I've confronted him about – it's only been three months, and his dad is a bit of a dick. Edward Sr. deserves to stew for a while.

All in all, though, it's going well. If only we could agree on somewhere to live.

We walk down the road to yet another building to visit an apartment there – the last viewing of our day, thank God. The letting agent enthuses about the place we're going to see, but I can't bring myself to get too excited.

Edward squeezes my hand apologetically, and I send him a grin in response. We're both being as awkward as each other, really. It's ridiculous, but hopefully when we finally find a place we agree on, it'll be perfect. I don't intend to move again anytime soon after this, not after all the hassle.

I whistle as we enter the apartment. It's fairly big – three bedrooms – and looks sleek, and easily maintainable. I can't deal with places with loads of unnecessary furniture – it just gives me more to obsess over. We walk around it, the agent pointing out various features, and I cringe as I wait for Edward to come up with a reason we shouldn't live there.

We're left for a minute on the balcony to discuss it, and I turn to Edward tentatively. If this goes badly, I might end up throwing him off.

"I like this place," he grins, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me close.

"Oh God, me too. Can we sort out renting it right now? We can't lose the one place in hundreds that we both like."

His hands tighten around me, and I fight back the natural reaction to his touch. "Are you sure you like it?" he asks.

"Yeah. I think we've both learnt we have no issues speaking up if we don't like a place," I laugh. "Anyway, look at it, it's all... clean. It's my kind of heaven."

Edward chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Okay then, let's get some paperwork sorted."

We wander back through the apartment to find the letting agent, who is trying to look busy with some papers in the kitchen.

"We like this place," Edward informs him.

"Excellent. I have some papers here to get the ball rolling if you're both happy?"

Edward turns to me and smiles. "Are you happy?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'm happy. You?"

He throws his arm over my shoulder and squeezes, and I look up to meet his eyes. They're almost shining with emotion, and I can't help but hold his waist, needing some connection to him, too. He smiles gently at me. "Happy doesn't even begin to cover it."

* * *

**And that's all she wrote.**

**Thank you all so much for your support through this story. Writing it has been an absolute trip. Extra special thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love hearing from you all.**

**Huge thanks to my pre-reader Karen EC. She has been nothing short of amazing. Go read her stuff - it's incredible, for real. She writes Carlward, and Garward, and all sorts of delicious boys. She also got me hooked on the Cut and Run series of books. They're available on amazon, and have ruined my life in the best possible way. If you're looking for some new M/M books, I'd start there.  
**

**I have some new stuff in the pipeline, but it will be at least a month or so, I'd guess, before posting. We'll see :)**


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